#Josh Daniels | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whollyfree · 6 months

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Let's Talk

Summary – You have a hard time watching Jake be ogled, and he has a remedy to remind you what's yours.

Pairings – Jake Kiszka x F!Reader

Word Count – 3.1k

Warnings – 18+ MINORS DNI!!! oral (f!receiving), face-riding, unprotected sex, dumbification, LOTS of dirty talk, cockwarming if you squint, spanking, mentions of alcohol

You had really fucking had it this time.

Was it a normal thing for Jake to be ogled? Yes! How could he not be?

It was far too easy to find yourself staring at him; so you truly couldn’t blame anyone else for doing so. With an air of confidence, he enters a room and every eye falls onto him.

He is an enigma to all (except you, of course) and it felt like damn near every girl at that godforsaken bar was on a mission to have his eyes so much as glance their way. He knows this, of course. How could he not?

But behind his mysterious, debonair exterior, he’s Jake. Your Jake. Your soft, sweet Jake who raids your pantry to make you breakfast in bed and fills your car with gas because “why do you ever let your tank run that low?! It’s not safe!” he had argued (but he still fills it up every time).

He’s your loving, tender Jake who litters you with kisses at any given moment and nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck when the poor thing feels as if he isn’t getting enough of your attention. That, and he can’t stand not to be touching you in any form or fashion. He’s just like a little lovesick puppy!

And no matter how hard you try to remind yourself of these things, to be rational, you can’t help but have to bite your tongue. The jealousy eats away at you and it infuriates you to no end. You hate yourself for it.

Which is why tonight at the bar, you bit your tongue so hard you’re sure small trickles of blood had seeped their way into your mouth. Jake stood by the bar; an arm securely wrapped around your waist as he beckons the bartender over with a simple raise of his fingers.

Of course, when it’s Jake, it’s not hard to get anyone’s attention; unwanted or not. And that was abundantly clear from the blonde at the end of the bar, twirling her straw in her cocktail as she eyed your boyfriend.

Her eyes moved up and down, and you notice they became stuck on his exposed chest and silver necklaces dangling against his tanned skin. And, oh god, do you hate her for it.

Stop it. Your conscience pleads with you to (for lack of a better phrase) chill the fuck out!

Jake could tell you were a bit pouty. He knows you all too well. And just as assumed, he knew he was being eye-fucked by the blonde at the end of the bar (and one hidden away in a booth in the back, but like hell he was planning on telling you that).

Part of him hates himself for finding your jealousy so amusing. And in all honesty, if he saw a man looking at you the way that women have looked at him, he’d be raising hell.

“You okay, baby?” He grins as the two of you walk into your home after your excursion to the bar, tossing his car keys on the kitchen counter.

“Mhm.” You hum. Short and sweet. He won’t expect a thing, right?

You’re kidding yourself and you know it.

“Yeah?” He replies, crowding your space immediately from behind. He takes the curves of your hips in each of his palms, his breath tinted with the Maker’s Mark he had a glass of at the bar. Top shelf only for him, of course. “You were awfully quiet tonight. Getting shy on me all of a sudden, princess?”

You can hear the subtle teasing in his voice, and you’re sure he knows exactly what you were sulking for. But you simply answer, not ready to give yourself away too quickly. “No, just tired is all.”

“Just tired is all,” he mocks you with a low chuckle. You’re a terrible liar, always have been. “It’s cute that you think you could ever lie to me.” He adds, lips grazing over the sensitive skin of your neck – it already feels too much but not enough.

And when his lips ghost over the shell of your ear, you feel a rush of heat between your thighs, and you swear your knees may give out. How he’s able to turn you into a puddle of yourself so quickly? You’ll never know.

“Come on, princess,” he sounds, and just like that it’s over. His hands are removed from your hips and he moves in front of you, his arm outstretched to you and his body facing the stairs. “Let’s go to bed then if you’re so tired.”

You try to hide your huff of annoyance, aching to have his touch again after being subjected to watch women drool over him all night. So you decide, no, you’re not going upstairs. Your arms cross over your chest like an insolent child who didn’t get what they wanted. Stubborn and spoiled. And your act of defiance is certainly not lost on him.

“No?” He quirks up an eyebrow at you, “Is the princess suddenly not tired? Sure are moody, though. What’s that about?”

God, you hate him. You hate that he’s finding your frustration the slightest bit entertaining. He’s taunting you, dangling the carrot in your face just to see you bite back.

He huffs out a laugh at your silence. “Oh, so we don’t wanna talk now, hm? That’s alright. We’ll see how long that lasts.”

Before you can even blink, you’re thrown over his shoulder like a rag doll. A surprised shriek slips out of you as he trudges up the stairs and in the direction of your bedroom. Smaller in stature he may be, but weak is not a way you would ever describe him.

“Jake!” You scold him, not having any of his shit right now. “Put me down!”

“Oh, so we are talking now?” He muses, depositing you on the neatly made bed. He hovers over you, standing at the foot of the bed where he practically threw you on it.

“How about this then, princess?” He taunts, “Since you’re suddenly in the mood to talk, I say we play a little game. You talk, I listen.”

Seems easy enough…a little too easy.

“Everything off.” There it is.

He strides over to the bed, climbing on before laying on his back. His head rests against the pillow as you continue eyeing him, slowly peeling your clothes off your body until your stark naked and sitting on your heels on the bed.

“So obedient, my pretty girl. And so fucking beautiful when you listen, aren’t you?” He coos. “Come have a seat, princess,” he beckons, still fully clothed, “talk to me.”

With a bite to the inside of your cheek, you rise from your sitting position to straddle his lap. And just as you begin to settle yourself –

“Uh-uh,” he tuts. “Not quite, baby.”

Your incredulous look makes him laugh. What else could he have wanted?

“Come on,” he encourages, placing his hands on your hips. “Up you go, princess.”

With a quick slap to your ass, he hoists you up further. Your eyes go wide and you yelp at the crack of his hand hitting your skin, your heart racing as your knees straddle either side of his head.

“Good girl,” he praises, his hands trailing up the sides of your thighs and to your hips to keep you steady. “Go on, princess. Tell me what’s got you so pouty. Wanna help.”

Considering you’re at a loss for words and can’t think straight with him eye-level with your cunt, you suddenly don’t even know why you were upset to begin with. But another swat to your ass quickly brings you back to consciousness.

“F-fuck,” you whimper, your head falling down and fingers gripping his hair. “They were staring at you…at the bar.” You manage out.

“Yeah? Who was, princess?” He’s teasing you even more now, pressing the gentlest of kisses to your clit until you choke out his name and begin tugging on the roots of his hair. He knows you can’t answer; you’re already too far gone and he’s hardly started.

But your impending fear that he would stop has you rushing out the words through uneven breaths.

“The girls at the bar,” you croak out as his lips continue pressing small kisses to your bundle of nerves. “Hated the way they looked at you. I was fucking jealous. I’m sorry.”

Pleased with your answer (even if he already knew it), he grins. And you can feel it against you before he presses one final kiss to your pearl.

“But you see, princess,” he says, smoothing his hands over your hips. “No one else gets to have this. Just because they see my face, doesn’t mean they get to fuck it like you do, do they?”

“N-no.” You reply, desperate to feel his mouth on you again.

“Good girl,” he croons. “And what they don’t know is that I get to have my face fucked by the prettiest little pussy whenever I please. Get to have your scent all over me. ‘Cause it’s yours, isn’t it, princess?”

“Yes, sir.” You peep, unable to form another word if your life depended on it.

Not only were you insanely turned on and dripping because his face was buried between your thighs, but it’s also due to how he speaks to you with such dominance and authority. He could have you on your knees (both literally and figuratively) with the snap of his fingers.

With one more praise of good girl, he dives back in, immediately sucking your clit into his mouth and flicking against it like a man starved. You feel your eyes roll back, a whining desperate mess above him. The tugging on his hair only gets tighter as he grips your hips to keep you against him.

You’re sure there will be marks, and you aren’t mad about it either. You need him tethered to you in every way possible.

He expertly licks through your folds, tongue gently prodding at your entrance as his nose brushes your clit. You can’t fight the whimper that leaves your lips, your pussy fluttering around the tip of his tongue. And when he groans at the feeling, you swear you’re done for.

“Jake,” you gasp, tightening your hold on his hair. He doesn’t seem to mind, though. He hums against your cunt, flicking your arousal against your clit before sucking it past his lips once more.

“Yeah, princess? Feel that sweet little cunt fucking squeezing my tongue. That feel good? Feel good to take what’s yours?”

And before you have time to catch your breath, his tongue finds your entrance again. He wastes no time going harder, faster this time. His tongue fucks into you relentlessly, nose nudging your clit in perfect timing. It’s sloppy and wet and downright sinful.

You can hardly register when it happens, you’re so far gone, but you cum hard against his tongue. Grinding your hips against his tongue to chase the feeling for as long as your body will allow while you cry out his name like a hymn.

And he can’t get enough of it either, ravaging you and swallowing every bit he can muster until you pry yourself off of him.

You look him over, his mouth, chin, and nose glistening with remnants of you. It’s enough to stir you back up again, your overstimulation be damned. Your lips crash into his, and he’s eager to capture them with his own, maneuvering you to straddle his lap.

“Fuck, my sweet girl,” he breathes out. “Did so fucking good. Came so hard for me. Could eat that pussy until it suffocates me, I swear.”

You gasp when you feel his hardened cock through his jeans that he wore out make contact with your swollen clit.

Grinding against him, you whimper against his lips at the new feeling bubbling within your tummy. He groans, feeling the slightest bit of relief as you grind against him. With the amount of wetness you felt between your thighs even after your orgasm, you’re sure that you’re absolutely soaking the fabric.

“This what you want, baby?” He murmurs. “Want my cock? Wanna fuck what’s yours?”

“Please.” You whimper, grinding down against him with a bit more force this time before moving your hips upwards to allow him to undress.

He practically moans when he sees the wet splotch of your arousal on the crotch of his jeans. “Fuck, princess. So fucking wet for me.”

“Jake, please,” you whine, tugging at his pants in an effort to make him move faster.

“Oh, my needy little thing.” He teases, resuming pulling his pants down along with his boxers. “Just had her pussy fucked with my tongue and can’t wait for more, can you?”

You shake your head no, trying to will yourself to calm down. You don’t want him to think he has the power, even though he knows all too well that he already does.

“I know, princess.” He soothes you with his tone, tossing his pants and boxers on the floor along with your clothes.

His dick stands tall, pressed against his stomach as precome leaks from the slit on the swollen head. He gives himself two languid strokes with his fist, hissing at the feeling. “Can’t wait to have you wrapped up around me…all tight and sweet and warm- fuck, come here, baby. Take it. Take what’s yours.”

You’re quick to crawl back to him, desperate to have him inside of you as you grasp his shoulders for balance. Using one hand, you grasp him, whimpering when you feel his crown just lining up with your weeping hole.

Jake holds your waist, patiently waiting for you to sink down around him. And when you do, you could cry from how good and full you feel already. You keen as you feel the familiar and pleasurable sting that only happens when he’s this deep inside you.

“Shit,” He hisses, fighting the urge to fuck upwards into you. “Feels so good, princess. This cock is yours, baby. Everything is yours.”

And that’s more than enough to encourage you to begin riding him, rolling your hips back and forth at an even pace. You whine and mewl from above him as he holds your waist, encouraging you with each movement you make.

You’re both a complete wreck already. Jake is already so close to coming and you’d hardly started moving your hips against him.

“Whose cock is this?”

You hated when he made you talk. You could listen to him go on and on all day about nothing that truly mattered (especially in bed). But you hate having to talk as well. You feel like you were nowhere near as good at it as he is.

In hopes that he’ll somehow forget what he asked, you resume your movements and peel your eyes away, beginning to go faster in hopes that you’ll truly distract him. But that sure as hell doesn’t work.

“Uh-uh,” He scolds, using his free hand to take your chin and turn it to face him. Eye-to-eye. “Eyes on me, princess. Now tell me whose cock this is. Wanna hear you, sweet girl. Tell me nice and loud.”

You’re embarrassed. If your cheeks could turn any darker in this moment, you’re sure they would. And you don’t want to answer him, suddenly bashful even when he’s buried inside of you as you bounce on his cock.

Displeased with your lack of a response, he angles his hips upwards, meeting you halfway to send himself deeper into the depths of your cunt. It catches you off guard to say the least, but only causes you to move faster, further onto him to chase that feeling again.

“It’s mine, sir,” you whine, words rushed and breathless. “It’s mineit’smineit’smine!” You continue, drunk off his cock and so close to coming you can’t hardly stand it.

Jake groans, continuing to push his hips upwards. “Yes, princess. My good fucking girl. It’s fucking yours.”

You want him to come harder than he ever has; want his cum deep inside you because it really is yours. He’s yours.

“Taking me so well, princess.” He pants. “Riding me so fucking good. Go on, baby. Want you to come again. Soak my cock, baby.”

Your words become mush, incoherent babbles as you continue fucking yourself on him. You can’t hardly breathe anymore, your chest heaving for breath as you feel the knot inside of you threatening to snap.

“Oh, princess…” he coos, “My dumb little baby. Can’t even get a word out when my cock’s buried inside you. Can’t even help it, can you?” He snaps his hips upwards more forcefully than before, an unforgiving pace that allows you some sort of reprieve from the burning in your thighs.

The moan that rips from your chest would have caused you to curl in on yourself in embarrassment, but right now you can’t seem to care. The way he’s fucking into you, the way he’s speaking to you…it’s too much for your already fucked-out brain to handle.

“Gonna come!” You muster out, your voice cracking as you grip his shoulders tighter.

“Yeah?” Jake taunts, still snapping into you as your pussy contracts around him. “Do it, princess. I can feel you fucking squeezing me so tight- fuck, baby. Gonna make me fucking come, aren’t you?”

You want to answer him; you really do. But all you can muster is a nod as your orgasm rips through you, your mouth dropping open and your cunt locking down around Jake as it fights to keep him inside. Your ears ring as you pulse around him, unsure if you’re making noise or not at this point.

Jake’s orgasm washes over him, choking out a moan of your name as he buries himself as far as he can. He spills inside of you, cum spurting from his swollen tip and into you. You feel him coating your walls as your vision returns to you, his eyebrows furrowed and sweat glimmering his forehead.

God, he’s beautiful all the time, but especially like this.

The two of you are a breathless mess, feeling the his cum mixing with yours as it seeps down your inner thighs. You breathe out a laugh, your forehead falling against his as he wraps his arm around you.

“I’m yours, princess.” His voice is as soft as silk as he traces his fingertips along your spine. “You know that don’t you?”

You smile, lashes fluttering as you wrap your arms around his neck. He makes your heart feel warm – even when you don’t deserve it; even when you’re acting like a brat.

“I do now.” You tease, attempting to bite back a smile but ultimately failing when you hear him giggle.

“Oh, princess,” He tightens his arms around you. “What are we gonna do with you?”

Share your thoughts/feedback! | Masterlist

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fandomcentralsposts · 10 days

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OMFG?!

#they did this for me and the sherlock girlies #I literally manifested this I said he would be perfect #lets goooo #andrew scott #knives out #knives out 3 #dead man walking #josh o'connor #daniel craig #cailee spaeny #movies #sherlock #bbc sherlock #cinema is so back

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imstuckin1999 · 2 months

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21 hottest under 21 from Teen People magazine June/July 1999

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builtbybrokenbells · 10 days

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Poolsides & Pizza Boxes | JTK (1 of 2)

A friendly hangout and an innocent drinking game turns into a troublesome affair.

Read part two here.

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word count: 13.5k

Warnings: sexual situations, mentions of sexual frustrations, lots of sexual tension, like one smidgen of dry humping, embarrassing crushes, kissing/making out, awkward situations, play fighting, lots of friendly teasing, drinking, smoking, partying, swearing, a touch of angst, lots of fluff, sorry if i miss any! (stick around for part two for the rest 😉)

hi lovelies, I had a blast writing this! part two obviously is the more climactic part, but I hope you enjoy this for now. The next one should be out soon 🤍 as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!

The summer sun was blinding, irritating your eyes as you shielded them with your hand. Your skin was warm, the cool pool water long forgotten and the droplets dried into a distant memory. The drink sitting in the cup holder of your patio chair was condensated, the ice inside melting the longer you sat, and the music blaring through your speaker was playing a song you hadn’t heard in a long time. The moment was perfect, the summer day exactly what you had dreamed of in the slump of work that only ever seemed to grow larger. What made it even better was the crowd of boys sitting poolside, their feet in the water and beer bottles in their hands.

As you sipped at your straw, you watched as one of them stood, the water running from his legs onto the brand new concrete panels on the ground. You looked upwards, your eyes settling on his face as he turned away from his brothers and took a step in your direction. His brown hair hung over his shoulders, framing his face and blowing softly in the barely-there breeze. You couldn’t help but feel your lips turn upwards into a smile as he continued on his path, standing in front of you and casting a shadow over your chair.

“The sun looks good on you, you know.” He said, his hands anchored on his hips as he gazed down upon your lax position in the chair.

“What does that mean, Jacob?” You raised an eyebrow, looking over the top your sunglasses at him. There was a hint of a smile on his lips too, and you could see his skin of his chest and shoulders beginning to redden from the constant sunlight touching it.

“It means you look better in the sun than you do behind an office desk.” He continued, pushing an identical chair closer to you with his leg. He stopped when the arm collided with yours, sending the ice in your drink clinking against the plastic cup. He sat down, turning his head to look at you before speaking again. “It means we have to do this more often.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” You sighed, pushing your glasses back up the bridge of your nose. You rested your head against the wooden back of the chair, taking in a long breath. The summer air was sweet, lingering with the scent of the blossoming flowers Jake had helped you plant by the doorway just a few days prior. When the wind blew just right, you were hit in the face with his cologne still lingering on his skin, mixing with the last bit of sunscreen that refused to wash away after his pool escapades. The scent was familiar, it was comfortable, and it made you think of home.

“Makes me think you’re forgetting about me, sometimes.”

“Forgetting about you?” You scoffed, chuckling at the idea alone. “As if I could do that even if I wanted to. And how does that make any sense? You’re here every fuckin’ day anyway.” At that, he let out a laugh, one that shook his shoulders and echoed through the air.

“Yeah, but hanging out with you is much different than listening to you talk on a boring conference call from across the room.” He brought the cap of his beer to the edge of the arm on his chair. After a few seconds spent positioning it correctly, he slammed his hand down on top of it. The cap popped off, clanging down on the concrete, and bubbles overflowed from the neck of the bottle. With a mischievous smile, he flicked his hands towards you. You jumped in surprise as the cold liquid hit your warm skin, sending him a glare that spoke louder than any words. “You moved halfway across the country so you could be near us again, and all you do is work.”

“Mhm,” you let out a hum, your lips pressed tightly together as you wiped away the droplets of beer from your chest. “You travel all over the world for months at a time, but you don’t hear me complain about it.” He shot you an incredulous look, shaking his head in disbelief that you would even say such a thing.

“Yeah, I do actually. Every minute of every day that I’m gone.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic.” You dismissed him, closing your eyes as you fought back a smile.

“I can pull up the texts if you’d like,” he said, reaching for the patio table on the other side of you to grab his phone. As he did, you grabbed his wrist, holding his hand back so he could not proceed any further. “And the phone calls.” He let out a long breath, upping his extravagance to bring extra attention to his point. He didn’t cower under your hold, but he didn’t try to move again. “It always goes something like—‘oh, Jake, when are you coming home? I miss you so much’ or ‘only three more sleeps!’” He put on an airy, high pitched voice as he recounted the things you said to him most often.

“Oh, so that’s how we’re going to do this?” You asked, sitting up in your chair and turning towards him. “You don’t want me to start.” You warned, still holding his wrist tightly in your hand.

“Oh, yeah, whatever.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Uh-huh,” you hummed. “What about you? Calling me at three in the morning ‘cause you couldn’t sleep, or when you have a little too much to drink and you miss the sound of my voice?”

“Yeah, like I’d miss the sound of your annoying little ‘Jacob Kiszka’s’! You’re worse than my mom when you call!” He put an extra flair on his voice as he imitated you, striking a flame of annoyance within you.

“Maybe if you’d behave yourself when you’re gone, I wouldn’t have to—“

“Hey!” Josh shouted, turning his head back towards the two of you. “Stop fighting with each other. You’re ruining the vibes.” He motioned to the still, blue water of the pool, illuminated with sun rays.

“He started it.” You grumbled, letting go of his arm and pushing it away from yourself at the same time.

“I don’t care who started it, I’m finishing it!” Josh snipped, taking a sip of his drink. “Worse than children, the two of you.” He let out a disappointed tsk.

“Yes, mom.” You hung your head low with faux shame.

“Sorry, mom.” Jake joined, copying your actions. When Josh turned back to the pool, you could see Jake peeking over at you through the strands of his hair. You bit down on the inside of your lip, stifling the laugh that was rising in your throat. Then, in a hushed whisper, you could hear a grating sound coming from his lips. When you strained to listen, you could he him muttering words, mocking his twin brother for his inability to have fun.

The laugh that tore from your chest was loud, irritating, and disruptive to everyone sitting in the immediate vicinity. Your shoulders shook and your stomach ached from the laughter coursing through you. Josh whipped his head back around, his eyes settling on Jake with a scowl on his lips.

“Is he making fun of me? I know he’s making fun of me.” Josh huffed, ready to argue worse than what the two of you were doing moments before.

“No, Josh. Pinky promise that nobody was making fun of you.” You gave him a sweet smile, sipping at your straw.

“You always take his side!” Josh accused, still joking but spewing some truth about the situation.

“I’m not taking anyone’s side!” You defended, raising your hands in the air.

“F’course you are, ‘cause your in love with him!” Josh grumbled, frustrated at your constant insistence on having Jake’s back and not his.

“I am not!” You exploded, looking to the chair beside you. Jake was unbothered by the thought, amused by the situation unfolding before his eyes, and happy the attention was off him and on you, instead.

“Are too!” Sam joined in, using his foot to reel in one of the pool floaties. As he did, he slid from the poolside on top of the tube. After he situated himself, he pushed himself away from the side and floated to the middle of the water.

“Do you hear yourselves? Are you insane?” You fought off the accusations like your life depended on it, your cheeks burning red and your stomach twisted with embarrassment.

You weren’t sure why it was such a sore subject, but every time they spoke the idea into existence, your whole body felt like it would explode if you didn’t get yourself out of the spotlight.

“Look at her, she’s blushing.” Daniel cackled, his head turned just enough to see your face.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Jake cut in, realizing that you were more uncomfortable than they thought. “Josh, you’re just mad she broke up with you in the third grade. Let it go, man.” Jake said, watching as Josh’s expression dropped into one of great confusion. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. His lips dipped into a frown, then he turned back towards the pool, lifting himself off the ground by his arms and sinking into the water.

Even if the other three knew they were in the right, they were never a match for the two of you when you joined forces against them.

When everyone distracted themselves with drinks and swimming, easily moving on from the moment of torment, Jake reached his arm out to you. He brushed the hair away from your shoulders, letting his hand rest on the back of your neck. The touch was calming, and when his fingers slipped into the hair at the nape of your neck, gently scratching over your head, you nearly forgot what had you upset in the first place. Your eyes fluttered closed and you leaned back into the chair.

“They’re just being assholes, trouble.” The nickname fell from his lips, smooth like silk and sweet as sugar. You could listen to him call you that all day and you were certain you would never get tired of it. “They don’t mean it, they just like to get under your skin.”

“I know.” You hummed, lost in the feeling of his hand on your neck. “Just don’t like it when they team up on me, is all. I know they’re just joking.”

And you did; they had been joking about the same thing since the summer before freshman year of high school, when you had spent every single day following Jake around like a second shadow. It would have hurt you more had he not been doing the exact same thing to you, and it would have been unbearable if you actually did feel that way about him. Back then, you laughed it off, and so did he. Both of you knew the notion was incredibly incorrect, and neither of you were too concerned about the constant teasing that came along with having a best friend of the opposite sex in a small town during your high school years.

In fact, nothing really bothered you much. There was nothing in the world that seemed to be able to tear the two of you apart, and no rumors or suspicious whispers ever changed the dynamics of your relationship. He was your best friend, and to this day, the simple fact remained the same. After a fateful encounter at the soccer field at the school on a warm July morning, the two of you got to know each other beyond what’s expected of familiar faces. You realized you had a whole hell of a lot in common, and within seconds, you realized that friendship with Jake Kiszka was a prized possession you never wanted to give up.

You knew each other beforehand, seeing each other in class and of course, the disastrous heartbreak of his twin brother in the fall of third grade (the relationship only lasted two weeks, but he really liked you), but never explored the possibilities of friendship until that summer.

Since then, you had never known anything else.

You spent days in his bedroom, watching him (poorly) play the new guitar his dad bought for him and watching movies that would quickly turn into memories that served you great comfort. He would walk your dog with you, and occasionally get ice cream with you at the corner store down the street when you both managed to scrape together enough change. When the school year started, you were his crutch for academics, and he was your’s for anything social. Before him, you didn’t have many friends, and the idea of high school always struck a sensitive nerve within you. With him by your side, you never felt like you had to worry about a thing. He held your hand through your first (real) heartbreak, and you helped him practice asking out girls to the school dances.

As you grew older, life changed, but never your friendship. Summers were the same, only with a little more freedom. You went on road trips when you felt your third-hand car could survive it, and got your older brother to buy you booze for house parties. You dated plenty of people, but none of the relationships ever lasted. Plenty of tears were shed, lots of memories were made, and one thing forever remained constant; his presence in your life, and his unwavering support. He wiped away the tears, shared the bottle of vodka, and always knew where to find you when a slow song came over the loudspeaker so he could get at least one dance in at the parties.

It was a relationship everyone yearned for, yet not many got to enjoy. It was a love that was never broken, and one that was never misused. It was the knowledge of never being alone, and knowledge that you never had to fall, because there would always be someone to catch you. More importantly, it was knowing that even if you did fall, and if you fell as far as rock bottom, he would wait beside you until you were back on your feet. You loved Jake for many things, but his support was unlike anything else. He always let you feel your way, figure it out yourself before he tried to fix it for you. He encouraged you to stand, rather than picking you up. It allowed you to learn, to make mistakes you needed to, but you never had to do it alone.

Jake Kiszka was the kind of person everyone wanted in their life, and you were the one lucky enough to have him around. It was a constant reminder to appreciate him, but it was also a constant question of what you ever did to deserve him.

The love carried you through to the very end of senior year, and all the way to a bittersweet goodbye. All of the support you had given to each other encouraged you enough to follow your dreams. The only downside was that your dreams could not happen overnight, and you could not complete them alongside each other. You loved each other so much that it forced you away from each other, but you both knew that staying together in fear of losing would only make you lose even more.

With teary eyes, he stood outside your car that was packed with your whole life, holding you in his arms until the very last second. With a kiss on the head, he sent you across the country with a reminder that he would always be your biggest fan, even if he was not there to tell you. You drove for hours, remembering the sight of the four boys waving you off at the end of your driveway, and did not stop until you landed in front of a dorm room and you were too exhausted to shed another tear.

You drive home on holidays, spending as much time with him as you could, but time was a thief, and you never had as much time as you wanted. Every visit home, and with every road trip across the country he took to see you, things were different. Never love, but life. He was older, his hair longer and his face prettier (how, you did not know). He watched as university tried and failed to beat you down, and you watched as his biggest dreams began to come true. As beautiful as it was, the distance was a killer. You hated seeing him show up at your door, just slightly different than he looked the last time. You were tired of going home and realizing how much had changed.

When you graduated, he was living in Nashville, just signed on by a bigger label and preparing to travel the world. Still, despite his growing popularity and never ending excitement, he never forgot about you. He showed up with a bouquet of flowers and a single suitcase, RSVPing the invitation as soon as he received it. He spent four days with you, laughing and crying, staying up until odd hours of the morning in an attempt to cling to the memory just a little longer. He told you he was going to start touring, and that he was scared he would lose you. You laughed and shook your head, knowing you would call and text him every spare minute you had.

Distance tried hard to tear the two of you apart the first time, and was determined to do it the second. Thankfully the two of you were strong enough to withstand it, and you knew that no matter how hard the years tried to change you, one thing remained certain; Jake would always be your best friend, no matter how far away he was.

You settled in Oregon for a few years, working outside with the environmental science degree you had bled for. He continued to travel the world, playing stages for thousands of people and releasing music he’d dreamed of writing since he was old enough to walk. You called, texted, and every now and again, visited each other. Life was good, simple and fun, but it didn’t feel right.

You had no idea why it felt that way, until you broke down on the phone with Jake as you confessed how badly you missed him.

That’s when things began to change.

He showed up, 85 hours later and running on zero sleep. With little plans and no real answer to your problems, he appeared at your front door, willing to do anything he could to take away the ache in your chest. It was a night full of tears, both of you drunk off wine and the feeling of being together again. In your bed in a run-down one bedroom apartment, he asked you to move to Nashville. After years of keeping silent, he admitted to how bad it was to be away from you. He offered you a place to stay and help looking for a job, and anything you could ever possibly need so long as you were living in the same city as him.

At first, you laughed.

Three weeks later, he flew back to Oregan with his brothers in tow and helped you pack up your life all over again.

This time, for good.

His brothers flew back to Nashville after the brunt of the work was done, but he stayed so he could drive with you. Standing in the driveway of the apartment complex where you had spent the last two years of your life, things seemed the same as they always did. You and your best friend against the world, ready to face a whole new and exciting chapter. As soon as he got behind the wheel of the car, assuring you he would drive the first half of the way, it was different.

Jake was not your childhood best friend who you shared scraped knees and melting ice cream cones with. He wasn’t the boy who used to play guitar for you in his parents basement, nor was he the one who walked your dog with you on those hot summer days. He was a man who was willing to drop everything in his (extremely) busy life to travel halfway across the country to make you happy. He was a man who was more beautiful than you could remember, and he was a man you were willing to drop your entire life for just to be with him again.

He was the same person, and so were you, but this time, everything changed.

You were in love with him, and so impossibly so that it made your head spin and your stomach sick.

You made a vow to secrecy, knowing if he ever found out, the world would never be the same. Losing him was not something you were ever willing to consider, because he was the only constant you ever had in the ever-changing world. For six months, you bargained with the feelings while sleeping in his spare room (some nights) and ate dinner with him at his kitchen table. Most of the time, especially at the beginning, you fell asleep in his bed while you watched terribly filmed and scripted YouTube documentaries in his bed, and you woke up with his arm slung across your waist and his head buried in your neck. You tried to tell yourself that with time, the fleeting feeling would pass and you would consider yourself ridiculous for ever thinking you felt that way about him, but that time never came. When he left for tour, gone for weeks at a time, you missed him more terribly than you ever had despite living in his home with his memory seared into every corner.

The reunions were sweeter, the hugs longer and the warmth in your heart larger than ever before. It was a dangerous game to play, because it was so hard to keep it to yourself. You knew that if things continued the way they had been going, you’d be forced down on one knee with a ring in your hand, begging for marriage.

So, a reluctant conversation surfaced after the third night in a row you had fallen asleep next to him. It was not the conversation you wanted to have, but it was one you needed to have. You sat him down, telling him with faux happiness that you had enough money to put a down payment on a house a few blocks away. You expected him to rejoice, to celebrate the victory of home ownership with you and jump to help you move out, but he did none of those things. Instead, he forced a tight-lipped smile on his face after he cleared his throat. He gave one, firm nod and reached across the table to grab your hand.

“I didn’t know you were looking.” He said, his sadness equal to a punch in the stomach. “I would have let you live here forever, you know. I never wanted you to move out.”

You had so many questions, ones that you did not know if you wanted an answer to. You looked down at his hand in yours, wondering how you had gotten yourself in such a position. You had fallen for the one person you knew you shouldn’t, and you couldn’t bear the thought of the consequences, which is why you forced yourself to buy the fixer-upper, anyway.

Had you gotten it wrong? Did he feel the same as you did?

You were too cowardly to ask, and a month later, you had enlisted the help of the four boys to renovate a house you weren’t even that keen on living in. With five of you, the work was pretty fast, but that was the worst part of it all. After seeing Jake’s reaction to you telling him you were moving out, you wanted to stay, to drag the renovations out for as long as humanly possible, but you knew they would catch on. Instead of dwelling on all of the things you should have said, you focused on what you were going to have. Luckily, the house renovations were mostly aesthetic, and it was done within a few weeks. By the end of it, you were excited to have something of your own to do whatever you pleased with.

Then, Jake had to suggest a fucking pool.

You were happy, content with having everything finished and being moved in (and more importantly, moved out of his house). Things finally seemed to go back to normal, no waking up next to a boy who made your heart beat a little too fast, and no dinners bordering too close to romance.

But it was boring, and you made the mistake of complaining about it.

“It’ll be a great housewarming gift, y/n.” He said, his arms outstretched as a shit-eating grin encased his (infuriatingly) beautiful face.

“Jacob, I don’t need a pool. Besides, I spent all of my money tearing out the carpet and buying the ‘real’ wooden panel flooring that Sam insisted I needed.” You argued, looking down at the expensive flooring with a scowl on your lips. “Stupid fuckin’ wood.”

“That was your fault for listening to Sam in the first place!” He exclaimed, looking around the empty living room. “And besides, do you even know what a gift is? It means someone gives it to you, because they bought it.”

“You’re not buying me a pool, Jacob Kiszka.”

“You’re right,” he gave a slow nod, looking at the fenced in backyard through the large living room windows. “I’m not going to buy you a pool. I’m going to pay a bunch of men to build one!”

Turns out that building a pool is much more costly than he previously anticipated. You figured he would scrap the idea entirely and just buy you an inflatable kiddie pool on your birthday to keep true to his word. You would have been fine with it —no, you would have been more than happy with it. You weren’t sure you could accept such a grandois show of affection from a man you were trying so hard not to have feelings for, but you knew better than to expect the bare minimum from Jake. In the ten or so years of knowing him, he had never stooped as low as the bare minimum.

So he suggested the two of you do the brunt of the work together, then he would pay someone to do the rest.

The issue was, neither of you had any idea how to build a pool (or start to, for that matter) and that entailed a surplus of quality time that you moved out specifically to avoid.

But, you had never been able to say no to Jake, especially when his eyes grew soft and his bottom lip jutted out into a small pout. Puppy dog eyes were your kryptonite, and from him, you were sure it would be your demise.

After a few weeks of digging up ground and clearing your backyard, the area was finally sufficient to hire someone to finish the job. Not long after that, the concrete was poured and set, and soon enough, what used to be a grassy patch had become a pool that was much more expensive than you ever could have afforded.

“This is too much, Jake. I can never even begin to repay you for this.” You said, a hand on your head as your facial features twisted with stress. It was stunning, inviting, and your favourite part of the entire home, and it was all thanks to him.

“You don’t need to repay me, trouble. I wanted to do it.” He said, slinging an arm around your shoulder as he pulled you into his side. The action made your heart flutter and your stomach fill with butterflies. “Do you know how fun it’s going to be? We can get Sam some arm floaties and Josh a life jacket, then we can have so many pool parties.”

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” You sighed, resting your head on his shoulder as you looked out at the blue water.

“I ask myself the same thing about you, every day.” His hand on your upper arm tightened ever so slightly as he spoke. “You dropped your entire life to move to Nashville, Y/N, just so we could be together again. Do you have any idea how much that means to me? Do you have any idea how much you mean to me?” You turned your head upwards, looking over his face. His head was already turned down and he seemed to have been staring at you for some time.

“I love you, Jake.” You mumbled, giving him a smile. If only he knew how true the words really were.

“I told you a pool was a great idea, trouble.” Jake said, clearly trying to take your mind off Josh’s teasing. You crossed your arms over your chest, the still-damp material of your bikini top sticking to your dry skin as you did so.

“I’m not going to say it, Jake.” You huffed, standing your ground. He’d been trying to get you to tell him he was right since the day the pool was finished, but you had bit your tongue and held back every time. “Your head is big enough as is. No need for me to inflate your ego even more.”

“Oh, so that’s how you want to be?” He asked, sitting up in his chair. His eyebrows were knitted together as his eyes silently begged you to retract the rude statement.

“That’s how I’m going to be, yeah.” You nodded, unwilling to back down. “What’s it to you?”

“You know, I’ve always been so nice to you, and I’m just supposed to take this abuse?” He continued, making a move to stand. He sat his beer on the table on the opposite side of you, raising to his feet with a slight sway. You could tell the summer heat was mixing with the alcohol in his system, and he was feeling good. In truth, you weren’t far behind him in the drunken race.

“Yeah, I’m just the worst, Jake. I’m so mean to you.” You laughed, looking up at him as he stood over you. His shadow casted a chill over you, making you realize you hadn’t moved from the sun soaked seat in hours.

“You said it, not me.” He said, his hands on his hips as he continued to tower over you. “Are you going to take it back?”

“Fuck no!” You laughed, placing your drink beside you in case he made any sudden moves that caused a spill. “I’m not going to tell you that you were right, and I’m not going to take it back. You have an ego problem, Jacob, and I think it’s time you realized it. You don’t have to be right all of the time.” The sass in your tone was completely humorous, used only to irritate him further.

Even as you two found yourself in a mock-fight, you couldn’t help but admire the beauty of the picture before you. His sun-kissed skin was glowing under the rays, and his dark hair was tousled perfectly after it had dried from his pool escapades. There was a slight wave to it, and the wind was blowing it away from his face. His shirtless chest was catching your attention, but not nearly as much as the peek of a v-line from his swim trunks, and the patch of hair under his belly button leading to the hem of the fabric. Your heart sped as you remembered what it felt like with his chest pressed to your back and his hand resting on your hip while he was sleeping away the earliest hours of the morning.

Either he did not notice your staring, or he did and he opted not to call you out on it. You were happy either way, because not even being caught staring at Jake was an embarrassment anymore. It happened so often that you felt odd when your eyes weren’t on him. Before you could digest his eyes on you in the same way, he was leaning down with outstretched arms. With ease, one of his arms slid around your lower back. He shifted to the side, hooking his other arm under your thighs. With a swift motion, he lifted you off the chair. You let out a shriek of discontent, knowing exactly where his mind was as he straightened himself up. Now that he was holding you, he seemed all the more steady on his feet, almost as if he was terrified to drop you.

“Jacob Kiszka, do not throw me in that pool or I swear to god—“

“Or what?” He mocked you, cutting you off as he took two steps away from the chair. Your arms slung around his neck, holding on tightly as he clambered closer to the poolside. “What are you gonna do, trouble?”

“I don’t know, but it won’t be good!” You fought against his hold, trying to shake out of his grasp and land back on your feet.

“Oh, I’m so scared!” He laughed, his feet now at the very edge of the pool. “Say it, trouble! Last chance!”

“Never!” You fought back, feeling your body already tense in anticipation of the cold water on your skin.

“Throw her, Jake!” Josh cheered in the background, lingering in the deep end by the side so he avoided the splash zone. He was laughing at the sight of the two of you, always amidst some kind of argument. Jake looked over his shoulder at his brother, smirking at the encouragement.

Josh had a knowing look in his eye, his feelings completely unspoken but apparent to the boy standing over the pool. He knew, just as well as Danny and Sam did. Even as Jake tried to play it cool, and as you deflected every accusation, love completely surrounded the two of you wherever you went.

“Josh, what the hell! You’re supposed to be on my side!” You pleaded, frantic for someone to stop him before he let go.

“Do it, Jake!” Danny yelled over the sound of your voice, laughing as he watched your head whip towards him.

“You guys fucking suck-“ before you could finish your angry sentiments, you felt Jake’s arms move upwards. You took in a sharp breath, holding it as you prepared yourself for him to follow through with throwing you in the water.

But, you had always been the one to get the last laugh.

As he tossed you forward, you tightened your arms around him. As your body pulled away from his, your arms stayed locked behind him, causing him to stumble with the force he’d thrown you with. You heard a laugh leave his lips as your ass touched the surface of the pool, and not long after you were fully submerged in the water. You were barely able to contain your laughter when Jake fell into the water on top of you. When you swam to the surface, you noticed that he did not join you. You looked down into the water, nervous that you might have hurt him, but you did not have to think of it for very long; his hands reached for your thighs as he swam towards you, and with one strong motion, he pulled you back under the water again.

Smiling and holding your breath, you tried your best to fight his hold. After a few seconds of a futile attempt, he loosened his grip and the both of you resurfaced. With his arms still around you and his hair covering his face, he guided you towards the shallow end before he pulled you into his chest. His breathing was ragged, still recovering from the minutes underwater. You relaxed against him, finding yourself breathless for a whole different reason.

“Good one, trouble.” He muttered, pushing his hair away from his face. The water droplets streaming down his cheeks only made him all the more inviting, and his hand on your barely clothed hip was driving you crazy. He reached out, brushing the stray hairs away from your face, in no hurry to move away from you.

“The pool was a good idea, Jake.” You whispered, smiling at him. His lips parted slightly as he tried to process what you were saying to him, and after a few seconds, you saw his eye twitch as he held back a grin.

“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.” He said, turning his head to the side so his ear was closer to your mouth.

“Don’t make me say it again.” You groaned, but you were still smiling despite your annoyance.

“Just one more time?” He pleaded, his fingers tightening on your hip as he asked. It was absent minded, almost as if it was natural for him to touch you so intimately. He didn’t even seem to think twice about it, and he certainly didn’t seem keen on breaking the hold.

“Fine,” you huffed, unable to deny the man of anything he asked for. “You were right about the pool.”

“Sorry, trouble. Can you speak up? I really can’t hear you.” He said, a laugh stuck in his throat as he continued the bit.

“Oh, fuck you, Jake.” You grumbled, rolling your eyes at him.

“—I’m not paying a delivery fee when I have two working legs!” Your attention was drawn to the poolside yet again, and as you looked past Jake to see what the commotion was about, you could have sworn you felt Jake move to be just a little bit closer to you. “Can you think? Do you ever use your head?” Sam continued, flicking Josh on the forehead to solidify his stance on the matter. Josh swatted his hand away, clearly annoyed with his actions but trying to keep his composure.

“Ten dollars is really going to kill you? Ten fucking dollars?” Josh fought back, his eyebrows knitted together similar to how Jake’s looked when he was upset. Jake turned fully, sliding his arm around you so he did not have to lose contact while he watched his brothers argue. You couldn’t help but feel the familiar swarm of butterflies overtake your stomach once again.

“Maybe it is, ‘cause it’s ten dollars I don’t have to spend!”

“You’re cheap, Sam.” Josh responded, his lips turning down into a frown.

“It’s okay. We can walk, it’s not that far.” Daniel said, breaking the tension with a hand on both of their shoulders. “We can stop at the corner store and grab another case of beer on the way back.” Danny offered. “They won’t deliver that, anyway.” With a huff through his nose, Josh eventually gave a nod.

“Fine, we can walk, but that’s not my point.” He said, stepping away from the two to grab his wallet and his shirt. “You know I’m right, you just won’t admit it.” He pointed a finger at Sam, his tone grave.

“God, you two really are twins.” You whispered, looking sideways at Jake.

“What can I say? We’re stubborn.” Jake gave a slight shrug of his shoulder.

“That’s putting it lightly.” You giggled, turning back to the three standing together.

“We’re going to get pizza,” Josh announced. “And we’re walking, because ten dollars split five ways is just too much for Sam.” You stifled a laugh, biting down on the inside of your lip so you did not further the tension in the air. “And we’re going to the gas station, I guess. Care to join?” Josh asked, looking suspiciously between the two of you. You glanced at Jake, waiting for him to answer first. When he realized all three of them were staring at you, he slowly removed his arm from your waist.

“No, I’ll stay, I think.” He cleared his throat, looking at you as he awaited your response.

“Yeah, me too.” You nodded, forcing a small smile despite your anxiety about the situation you’d found yourselves in.

“Figures.” Josh gave a cheeky smile, slipping his shirt over his head. “We’ll be back, please don’t forget that.” He continued as the other two boys stepped towards the fence gate. You felt your cheeks burn, looking down towards the water to avoid the staring. “You guys want anything? As long as Sam doesn’t deem it too expensive to buy?”

“Shove it, Josh.” Sam muttered, unlatching the metal lock as he pushed open the wooden door. “Be back soon!” He called over his shoulder as the other two followed him out. When the gate slammed closed, the lock clicked itself shut, sealing the two of you alone inside your backyard.

You shook your head, chuckling at the scene that had just unfolded before looking over to your best friend, who already seemed to find himself staring at you. Without a word, you took a few steps forward in the water, reaching out for the floatie Sam had abandoned when pizza was mentioned. Jake followed closely behind you, likely scheming another way to disrupt your day of relaxation. You pulled the brightly coloured tube towards you, steadying yourself as you centered it with your body. With one strong push, you pulled yourself up out of the water and lurched forward, heaving a sigh of relief as you landed on the tube. You turned around, careful not to fall off, and settled your ass in the middle. With a small smile, you relaxed and let your arms hang over the side, your fingers grazing the surface of the water as you looked up at the sky.

Jake was beside you, smiling to himself as he watched you. “You look comfortable.” He noted, propping his arms on the side of the floatie and resting his chin on it as he gazed up at your face.

“I am.” You agreed, looking at him through the corner of your eye. “And I’d like to stay that way, if you don’t mind.”

“You always think the worst of me, sweetheart.” He laughed quietly to himself, seemingly lost in thought about something other than the topic at hand. “Do you remember the year we bought that cheap inflatable pool? We put it in your backyard and sat in it all summer.”

“Yeah,” you laughed at the thought, closing your eyes as you recalled the memory. “It was that summer before senior year. My car broke down on the way to Walmart. Took us all damn day to even get the thing.”

“We got it though, after Josh came to the rescue.” He reminded you.

“That pool was like four feet wide, max. I have no idea how the two of us even fit in it.” You grinned. “And it looked like a watermelon. The cashier thought we were idiots.”

“Because we are.” He laughed, turning his head to the side so his cheek was laying on his arm and his eyes were stuck on you.

“Yeah, we were.” You nodded, bringing your hand to his face and brushing the stray hairs away from his eyes. You knew you shouldn’t, and that the touch was too intimate for a friendly relationship, but you couldn’t help it. You wanted to touch him all of the time and never have to worry about anything else.

“Did you ever think we would end up here, in a real pool, living as sort-of neighbors almost ten years later?” He asked, reminiscing on the years of memories shared between the two of you.

“No.” You shook your head, only telling him a half-truth. You didn’t think you would end up like this, but you had always hoped you would. Actually, you always hoped you would end up like you were months before, living together in the same home, sharing a bed every night. Although you had what you once dreamed of, it wasn’t in the way you wanted it to be. As much as you enjoyed your brief stay at Jake’s house, you knew it was for the best that you left. You couldn’t keep hoping for love when you knew it wasn’t possible. You couldn’t open yourself up to the idea, because you couldn’t stomach the thought of losing him.

“I miss you living with me.” He confessed, his cheeks rosy from the liquor coursing through his veins. He would never have harnessed the courage to admit it sober, but he felt like he needed to get it off his chest, just in case you felt the same. “My bed is weirdly empty without you in it.” You felt frozen in place, his words hitting you much harder than they should have. You didn’t want to speak, fearful that the moment meant more to you than it did to him, so instead you sat, staring at him with parted lips and surprise in your eyes. “Sorry, that was weird. I didn’t mean—“

“S’okay, Jake.” You smiled, letting your hand fall from his face to his bicep. You gave his arm a small squeeze, reassuring him that it was alright. “I miss it too. I think I jumped the gun with buying a house. It’s nice, and I am excited, but it’s lonely, I guess.”

“Why did you leave?” He asked, the words coming out too quick for him to possibly stop them. As you looked over his expression, you realized it was a question he’d been dying to ask since you told him that you were moving out.

“Oh,” you breathed, swallowing hard as you tried to come up with a quick lie. “I, uh, I didn’t want you to get sick of me. I felt bad, like I was a freeloader and you were doing charity work.” You forced a smile on your face, trying to make the situation lighter by joking, but he didn’t seem to take it as such. His eyebrows furrowed, and a flash of pain crossed his eyes.

“You know I would never feel that way, Y/N. I waited for you, you know? Till you were finished school, for when you had a job and you knew what you wanted to do… I waited for you to call me and tell me you wanted to be with me again.” Your heart sped and your stomach sunk. As sweet as the sentiment was, you couldn’t help but feel yourself grow defensive over the idea. He was being far too romantic for a man who never once seemed keen on being more than friends.

“I just… I had to, Jake, okay?” You rushed out, scared he would back you into a corner and make you confess the one thing you wanted to keep secret. The pain on his face made you regret the words immediately, and you knew that fighting was the last thing you wanted to do. “I’m sorry.” You breathed, trying to focus and understand the jumble of words plaguing your brain. You wanted to be honest, to tell the truth, but every time you came close, you thought you might be sick. “I loved living with you, Jake. I think it was the happiest I’ve ever been, but I don’t want you to get sick of me, and I think that being roommates with someone you love so much is a tricky thing. I… losing you would be the worst thing in the whole world.”

“You’re ridiculous, Y/N.” His words were harsh, but his lips were upturned into a smile. “In all of the years I’ve known you, I’ve never been sick of you, and I never will be.” He said, the certainty in his tone making your head spin. “But hey, we got a pool. That has to count for something.” You liked the sound of his words, making it seem like you two were more than best friends. If not a couple, then definitely a team.

“We did get a pool.” You grinned, only slightly guilty that you had such a hard time returning his sweet words.

As always, you were terrified that it would mean something different to him than it did to you.

“You know what the best thing about a pool is?” He asked, his eyes scanning the still surface of the water.

“Hmm?” You hummed, naive to believe his question was innocent.

“It makes it so easy to annoy you.” He answered, giving you no time to register his words before he backed away from the tube and dipped his hands below it. With a strong push, he flipped it over and sent you tumbling into the water again.

You were so shocked at the suddenness of his actions that you forgot to hold your breath, finding yourself choking on water as you forced your way back to the surface. When your head popped back up, you were too busy coughing to notice Jake’s echoing laughter. When he noticed your distress, the amusement disappeared and concern replaced it. He pushed the tube out of the way, swimming towards you as you continued to clear your lungs of any water that remained.

“Hey,” Jake said, now in front of you as he reached out to hold you. “Are you okay?” He asked, looking over your face as you took in a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, trouble. I was just messing around.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright.” You nodded, noticing the closeness of his body as his hands lingered on your arms. “You’re a dick.” You snipped, fully recovered as a grin blossomed on your cheeks.

“Seriously, you’re okay?” He disregarded your insult completely, still concerned with your well-being.

“Yeah, I’m good.” You nodded, reaching out and placing a hand on his side under the water to reassure him of the fact. He was so close, so comfortable and alluring. You couldn’t seem to pull yourself away from him, remembering how nice the physical contact felt with him. He didn’t seem to be in a rush to part ways with you, either, his eyes locked with yours and his hands anchored in position.

Instead of dwelling on the yearning of your heart, you took advantage of the moment and used all of the force you could muster to push him. He lost his footing under the pressure and stumbled backwards, his upper half crashing into the water as he sank below the surface with a splash. With a laugh stuck in your throat, you watched him fight his way above water as he suffered through your revenge. When he was back on his feet, there was a fire in his eyes and a devious smile on his face.

“No, Jake, we’re even now.” You pleaded, pointing a finger of warning in his direction as he began to move towards you.

“Uh-huh.” He nodded, clearly in disagreement with you.

“Seriously, stop!” You exclaimed, backing away from him as he closed in on you. Before you could get away, he was in front of you and his hands landed on your hips. In a moment of desperation, you locked your legs around his waist as he lifted you off your feet, cementing the idea in his head that if you went down, he was coming with you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging to him as closely as you could to deter his attack. “I swear to god, Jake, stop!” You let out a shriek of laughter, preparing for his unforgiving nature one last time, but it never came.

Instead, he seemed frozen in place, immobile from the position you had forced upon him. When the adrenaline faded and you understood he was making no further effort to dunk you under the water, your sanity returned and so did your self-awareness. In your desperation to avoid his shenanigans, you had clung to him in such a way that his face was settled on your chest, and your legs wrapped around him so tightly that you had put him in a very compromising position. If that wasn’t enough to embarrass you, your actions not only seemed to cause a short circuit in his brain, but a growing problem in his pants. A problem that was so imminent you could feel it.

You were certain he could feel your heartbeat through your chest as his chin rested on top of your breasts, propped up by the padded material of your bikini top. Your hands tangled in the hair on the back of his neck did not make the scene any less explicit than it already was, and perhaps the worst part of it all was that shame seemed like a far away feeling, covered completely by need for him. For a moment, you weren’t lifelong best friends, nor were you afraid of any consequences. You were a woman consumed with desire for the person below you, and it seemed as though he was a man gone mad. You feared you had the signal mixed up, that you were so lost in your own feelings for him that you were confusing his feelings for you. Then, his hands on your hips slid backwards, cautious and careful as his grip settled on your ass.

You took in a shaky breath, the touch electrifying your entire body. In reaction, without thinking, you shifted downwards on him. Somewhere deep in his chest, a low groan sounded as his fingers tightened on you. The skimpy bikini bottoms left little to the imagination as he pulled you down on him further, his cock pressing against your clothed core. Your eyes fluttered closed, wondering if you were dreaming or if the euphoric feeling of being so close was actually a reality. You turned your head downwards, finding him already looking up at you with an unfamiliar look in his eye. He straightened his upper half, his face lifting from your chest and advancing unusually close to your own. You could smell the alcohol on his breath as the tip of his nose brushed against yours, and it was driving you close to insanity.

You wanted to taste him, to feel his lips on yours and explore the possibilities that were presenting themselves. You could feel how hard he was, how badly he needed the relief similar to yourself. Your mouth was watering at the idea of feeling him, and you were aching at the fantasy of finally having him in a way you only ever dreamed of.

The tips of his fingers traced the outline of your bikini bottoms, curious and eager to go further. Why wasn’t he pulling away? Why was he letting this go so far without saying a word to stop it? Could he really feel the same way? There were too many questions, and you did not care much for the answer as you lowered your hips on him a little further. As you did so, the friction from the movement gave you a sense of relief. A quiet whine forced its way through your teeth, and you were unable to stop it before it reached his ears.

“Careful, trouble.” He whispered, his voice husky and the vibration of his chest rattling your own. His lips were so close to yours, nearly brushing yours as he moved them to speak. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.” His tone of voice made it hard to decipher if his statement was a warning or an invitation.

“Who said I can’t finish it?” You challenged, desperate to keep him there for a little while longer. You weren’t ready to give him up just yet.

“You know better.” He said, the words forced like he hated to say it. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why not?” You challenged, your face inching closer to his own as you awaited a proper answer.

“God,” he hissed, sucking a sharp breath in through his teeth. “You always make it so fucking hard to do the right thing.” This time, he pulled you down on him, unable to resist the temptation of feeling you on him.

Before you could get to the bottom of his ambiguous words, voices filled the air through the screen door of your kitchen and a rush of fear filled you. The grating sound of the tread on the door against the frame caused you to recoil away from Jake, pushing yourself backwards as if you had never been in the confusing situation at all. As bodies filled the patio, laughing and completely unaware of what they interrupted, you looked to Jake to see what he was thinking. As if it was some kind of sick joke, his face was plastered with undeniable disappointment, and behind his eyes, there was a glimmer of hurt.

You thought you might be sick. Your head was pounding and your stomach was twisted with anxiety. To make matters even worse, you were still aching for relief, aching to be back in his arms with your body pressed against his. Surely there was no way in hell that he wanted it too, and you tried to convince yourself you were crazy for thinking so, but the sadness on his face told you a completely different story. His lack of care about the position and his enjoyment of the moment was obvious, but it was too much to process all at once.

Instead, you decided to pretend that it never happened at all. Of course, it was the most painful thing to do, but in his own words, it was the right thing to do.

“Jesus, what happened? You both look like you saw a ghost.” Josh asked, his voice booming and breaking you both from the storm of emotions consuming you. There was a smile on his lips and clear ignorance to what the group had interrupted. You cleared your throat, shaking the emotions away as you noticed the group had doubled in size since the three had left. The boys partners had been planning on joining after work, but in lieu of the whirlwind of events, the knowledge seemed to slip your mind.

“No, all good.” You assured him, glancing at Jake to see he’d made a quick recovery, too.

“Hope you don’t mind the extra company.” Josh grinned, setting a pizza box down on the patio table.

“No, f’course not. The more the merrier, right?” You forced a smile, but you knew everyone could tell that it wasn’t genuine. You hoped that they didn’t misconstrue the dishonesty behind it, because it had nothing to do with extra bodies surrounding the pool, but rather the boy stuck in there with you.

“Right.” Josh nodded, smiling at his partner beside him. “Come and eat, trouble.” He said, nodding his head to the chairs you and Jake had sat in not long before.

“Yeah, okay.” You breathed, giving a curt nod. “You coming?” You asked Jake, feeling guiltier by the second.

“Yeah,” he nodded, his voice hoarse as his eyes connected with yours. “Just give me a minute.” He whispered, just loud enough for you to hear. Your cheeks burned at his words, realizing what he meant and why he had to stay. “Please?” He pleaded, knowing that having you in the pool beside him was not helping his situation.

“Yeah, okay.” You nodded, nervous as you repeated the same words as earlier. In a rush, you swam towards the ladder and hoisted yourself up. You climbed out of the pool, shuffling towards the group as you tried to pull yourself together. You grabbed a towel from the back of a chair as you approached the group, drying your hands before quickly wiping the water from your limbs. Sam seemed enamored with his partner, barely noticing anything that was happening around them, and Daniel was amidst a painful bout of flirting with the girl he’d been talking to for weeks now. You felt good, confident that nobody was suspicious of you and what happened while they were gone, until your eyes locked with Josh’s.

He cocked his head to the side, a playful smirk on his lips as he raised an eyebrow. Plagued with guilt and embarrassment, you cowered under his stare, giving him all the answer he needed. In true Josh fashion, he couldn’t have cared less about what happened so long as he knew for a fact that something happened. He was selective with his need for gossip, never caring about the details but desperate to know that his suspicions were correct, especially when it came to you and Jake. Thankfully, the intensity of the moment dissipated as people began to fill the chairs around the table. Paper plates were passed around as pizza was served, and Jake had recovered enough to get out of the pool and join the rest of you.

Sam’s girlfriend was in his lap on the chair, and Danny was sitting next to his new fling, taking up two seats. Josh, seeing the opportunity to further his torment of you and Jake, took one of the two remaining chairs and offered it to his boyfriend. Then, he threw a folded towel on the ground and took a seat in front of him, between his legs. With a devilish smile, he looked to you and Jake, awkwardly glancing at the only available seat left with plates of food in your hand.

“You take it, trouble.” Jake said, motioning his head towards the chair. “I’m fine sitting on the ground.”

“No, Jake. You take it.” You shook your head, unwilling to make him sit on the ground after you had hurt his feelings.

“Come on, don’t be like that.” He frowned, too stubborn to take it from you.

“Here’s an idea,” Josh pitched in his two cents, sipping his drink before continuing. “You could both sit on the chair so neither of you have to sit on the ground?” He offered, raising an eyebrow. You shot him a glare, expecting nothing less but hoping to be proven wrong. “What? You guys shared a bed for months, but sitting on his lap is too much?” Josh was desperate for a reaction, desperate for the two of you to fess up about how you felt for each other, and he was playing devils advocate to get his way. “Unless there’s a problem, trouble?” He pushed a little harder, but you stood your ground in hopes of silencing him.

“No, no problem at all, as long as you’re okay with that.” You looked at Jake, who gave a shrug. He knew just as well as you did what his twin brother was trying to do, but arguing with him never got you anywhere.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” He nodded, taking a seat on the chair. He outstretched his arms towards you, inviting you in with great pleasure as if the awkward moment in the pool never happened at all. He had a paper plate clutched in one hand and a beer in the other with a dopey smile on his lips and rosy cheeks. Despite all of the days strange events, you could not seem to refute the fact that he was adorable.

You stepped towards him, careful as you placed your drink on the table. You sat, mindful not to hurt him as you shifted into a comfortable position in his lap. You twisted to the side, throwing both of your legs over his as you leaned back on him. He put his beer bottle into the cup holder in the arm of the chair and hooked his arm around your waist to hold you in position.

“How’s that?” He asked, just loud enough for you to hear.

“Good.” You squeaked, unable to confess how much you truly enjoyed it. He placed his paper plate on your leg, and within seconds, the awkwardness dissolved into nothing.

You ate, laughing at the topics the boys were discussing (and arguing about), pretending like it was just another normal day for you, but your mind couldn’t help but wander back to the incident in the pool. You couldn’t stop thinking about his hands on you, testing his limit as they travelled over your skin. Your mind only wanted to remember how close his face was to yours, his warm breath on your skin and his nose brushing your own. More than that, you couldn’t seem to forget the way he felt underneath you, worked up from the position alone and nothing else. Over and over again the memory of him pulling your hips down on his filled your mind, and it didn’t take long for the incessant ache began between your legs yet again.

Truth be told, it was not the first time the two of you found yourselves in a compromising position—in fact, it happened more often than not, but this time, it seemed intentional. There was no shying away, and both of you seemed content with progressing further had there been no interruptions. Back when you lived with him, finding yourself sleeping in his bed more often than not, compromising positions were the only way you ever started your day. Whether you woke up, your face resting comfortably on his chest and his hand on your hip to hold you in place, or if you were on your side with his chest pressed against your back and his hand nestled under your shirt on your stomach. Closeness was not foreign to you and Jake, and unfortunately, neither was sexual tension.

Most mornings, more so when he found himself as the big spoon, your ass pressed against him did little to help keep things platonic. It was always a struggle to force yourself out of bed, to pretend you didn’t notice a thing so he did not feel ashamed or embarrassed about his own actions, because you wanted nothing more than to stay in bed and take care of the problems for him.

In fact, you were certain there was not a problem in the world you wouldn’t take pleasure in solving for him.

But today, you were conscious, both aware of the consequences and uncaring of them. He was willingly holding you there, testing his limits in the process, and he was sad when you pulled away. That was something you did not expect from him, and it was the very thing that was causing all of the overthinking in the first place. Did he really want you, or was he just being a guy, desperately infatuated by a woman no matter who she was? Was his sexual frustration your doing, or a result of a sexual draught he’d been caught in for months? You and Jake had always dated other people, but it usually never extended beyond hookups and talking stages. Since you’d moved in with him, neither of you even bothered to search for a date or a person to bring home after the bar. At first, you thought you were doing it out of respect for him and a dislike for the idea of having sex with someone else in his house, but you quickly understood that it was much more than that.

You didn’t want to date or hookup with anyone, because you wanted to do it with him. It had nothing to do with respect, and everything to do with your feelings towards the one boy you shouldn’t feel that way about.

You were confused, anxious, and worried that the instance might change the dynamic of your friendship, especially if any of your previous questions were answered with something undesirable. You wanted him to want you. You wanted him to love you, in the same undying and relentless way that you loved him, but it was far too much to ask of him. You didn’t want him to sleep with you because he was in a dry spell; you wanted him to sleep with you because he wanted you, rather than just for sex. The longer you thought about it, the more you realized you had been feeling this way for much longer than you ever realized it.

“Y/N?” Jake asked, shaking you slightly. You snapped back to reality by the burning feeling of his palm on your bare thigh. You turned your head towards him, wondering what he wanted and how long you had been zoned out for. You gazed around the circle of friends, realizing that all eyes were on you. The embarrassment began to eat you alive as you mustered out a hum of acknowledgment. “Josh was wondering if you wanted to play Pizza Box.” He repeated, his hand still lingering on your skin.

“Yeah, I love Pizza Box.” You nodded, looking down at his hand. You couldn’t help but think of how good it looked, decorating your leg and holding you as if you were his.

“What’s Pizza Box?” The girl sitting next to Daniel spoke, laughing nervously as Josh began to break down the cardboard box on the table.

“You see, my dear friend, it’s a game of great strategy.” Josh began, shaking off the crumbs onto the concrete.

“It’s a drinking game.” Jake corrected, rolling his eyes at his brother.

“Yes, a drinking game of great strategy!” Josh continued, finding a quarter at the bottom of his bag.

“It’s not, Sierra.” You cut in, reassuring her of the fact. “It’s super random and it’s really fun.”

“Okay,” she breathed a sigh of relief, looking at Danny and giving him a smile. He reached out and placed a hand on her knee, giving it a small squeeze.

“There is a science and I will not take any further arguments on the matter.” Josh snipped, fishing around in his bag for a sharpie. You played the game so often that he never left home without one.

“I learned about it at a frat party in my first year at college.” You shut him down once more, enjoying the frustration on his face. “We play it every time we drink. Basically, we’re going to write everyone’s name on the box and circle it. We take turns throwing the quarter, and if it lands on someone’s name, they have to take a drink.” She nodded along, following your instruction carefully. “If it lands in an empty space on the box, the person who threw the quarter gets to write a rule, as big or as small as they’d like, and if the quarter lands on that, we have to do whatever it says.”

“Oh, that’s not too hard, then.”

“No, it’s not, and it’s really fun, I promise.” You smiled. “Be prepared to get drunk, though. There’s a lot of drinking in this one.” You warned. Your eyes turned back to Josh, watching him as he wrote everyone’s name down and tried to keep them the same size. He circled his own name last, then pushed the table to the center of the circle.

“Alright, Lena. You want to start?” Josh asked, looking at Sam’s girlfriend. She gave a nod, holding out her hand. Josh tossed the quarter in her direction. She caught it, focusing for a moment before tossing it down on the table. The coin landed on Sam’s name, almost perfectly in the middle, and she let out a laugh at the sight.

“Hey!” Sam complained, furrowing his eyebrows. “You’re supposed to be on my team!”

“Not a team game, Sammy. Drink up.” You smirked. With a huff and an eye roll, he did as he was told. Lena leaned forward and grabbed the quarter, handing it to the boy sitting on the chair underneath her. He gave it a lazy toss, landing on a blank spot next to Roman’s name. Josh’s boyfriend let out a sigh of relief, knowing he narrowly avoided the sentence to drink.

“Uhm,” Sam hummed aloud, trying his best to think of a rule. “Players who land on the spot can’t swear for the rest of the game. Every time they do, they have to drink. You can write it for me.” Josh nodded, leaning forward and circling the words ‘swearing = drink’. Sierra grabbed the coin, sitting back in her chair as she looked around the board. With a targeted throw, she landed on Danny’s name. Without complaint, he sipped at his beer, then took his own turn.

By the time the circle was complete and Lena was ready to take her turn again, mostly everyone had been sentenced to drink with the exception of you. Now, the group had a pact to shoot for your name. Lena tried, but missed entirely, which came a new rule of ‘boys drink’. Sam missed and hit Jake’s name, and Sierra landed on Josh’s name. Danny made the new rule of ‘girls drink’ to counter Lena, and Roman landed on it when he took his turn. The board filled quickly, now including rules pertaining to shenanigans rather than drinking. Jake added one, stating that if the player landed on it, they had to swim a lap of the pool. Sienna added one in which the player had to attempt at a cartwheel.

The board was filled enough that the rules began to slow, and the fun began. With a reluctant round of clinking beer bottle necks, the boys took a drink. Josh tried (and failed) to do a cartwheel on the grass, and Jake had to swim a lap in the pool, grumbling about his own rules being used against him. When he returned to the chair to sit, you refused to let him back on it, giggling as you reasoned with him.

“I just dried off! It’ll be cold and wet and gross, and it’s starting to get dark out!” You complained, anchoring your hands on the arm of the chair.

“We can do this the easy way, or the hard way, trouble.” He bargained, sopping wet as he stood before you with his arms crossed over his chest.

“My chair, my rules!” You cried, hooking your legs around the legs of the chair. He chuckled to himself, leaning down and snaking his arms around your midsection.

With ease, he lifted you from your spot, the chair lifting with you. You held on for as long as you could, but eventually had to loosen your grip. It clattered back against the concrete and Jake let out a sigh of relief. He hooked an arm below your knees to hold you bridal-style as he sat back down, placing you on top of him. You tried to scramble away, but he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you back on him as you shrieked with laughter. Now just as damp as he was, you knew the fight was a fruitless endeavor. You relaxed against him, your skin littered with goosebumps from the chill of the night.

“What was that about your chair?” Jake asked, the vibration of his chest ringing against your back as you leaned against him. His chin was resting on your shoulder, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Shut up, Kiszka.” You muttered, mumbling a thanks to Josh as he handed you the coin. The alcohol and laughter did wonders at easing the tension between you and Jake, and you were barely thinking about the pool incident any more. Even as you sat atop of him, closer than usual, things felt normal, and it felt good to know that the situation did not change anything between you.

You tossed the quarter, and it landed on the corner of the box, right atop a little blank space in the corner. You leaned back, turning your head towards Jake so you could whisper something in his ear. He leaned forward, catching on to your intent as he waited to hear what you have to offer.

“I’m thinking skinny dipping?” You whispered, your nose brushing against his cheek as he turned to look at you. At first, he was surprised at your words, his eyes wide and his mind running at a mile a minute, but he looked to the box and quickly realized what you meant. Before he made his misinterpretation too obvious, he gave a nod.

“Good one.” He hummed. You leaned toward, grabbing the marker and writing the words down before encasing it in a circle.

“Ah, so that’s how we’re playing this tonight.” Josh announced, an evil grin taking over his face. At the sound of his words, your stomach plummeted, realizing what you had opened the door to in your moment of mindlessness. “Sounds good to me!”

“What does that mean?!” You whispered to Jake, nervous about what the future held.

“I wouldn’t worry, trouble. It’s just Josh.” He assured you. He had his hand on your hip, holding you close as he reassured you, and it felt good. Almost too good as you tried to bargain with yourself not to cross any boundaries.

The circle went around a few more times, and the night began to take over. The stars glimmered in the black sky and the moonlight casted a white light over the group. You were all long last tipsy, and growing more intense as the game progressed. Roman and Josh had been whispering amongst themselves for the past few turns, clearly planning something grand. Roman carefully aimed when his turn came around, making sure he landed on one of the few empty spaces left.

“Couples kiss.” He said, smiling as Josh reached for the coin. He took his time, and landed on another empty space.

“Singles kiss.” He announced, writing the words much larger than necessary. Your stomach twisted with unease as Josh sat back in his original position, turning his head towards you as he slid the quarter across the table. You gave him a scowl as you reached for it, knowing exactly what he was playing at. Carefully, in hopes of avoiding the biggest circle on the board, you threw the coin. It slid as it landed, making your heart speed, but stopped on Jake’s name.

“Hey,” he complained, a frown on his lips.

“Drink up, buttercup.” You smiled, still too on edge to be relieved. You knew that nobody else would take that much caution in avoiding the space, which made it all the more frustrating for you. Josh had you in stalemate, and he wasn’t backing down until he finished the whole thing.

The circle went around, and with every coin toss, you felt yourself relax into Jake a little bit more. So far, you were in the clear, and you worries began to ease. Perhaps you were a little too comfortable in your assumptions, because when Roman took his turn, his quarter landed suspiciously close to the new rule Josh had added moments before. When Josh took his turn, he was carefully positioned and calculated. As his quarter landed on the board, he tried to keep the frown from forming.

“Couples kiss!” He announced, forcing a fake smile. With that, Josh and Sam both turned to their partners, keeping it sweet and simple. Your turn gave the girls a round of drinks, and as you handed the quarter to Jake, you prayed he would have the same caution as you did. Of course, you couldn’t expect anything from Jake when he was drunk, and as soon as the coin was in his hand, he tossed it without a second thought.

You watched in horror as the coin landed on its side and began an agonizing roll towards the exact spot you wanted to avoid. As if the world was in slow motion, you felt like you could feel every second pass as the coin hit a divot in the box, halting its rapid roll and wobbling in its path. Eventually, it pathetically dropped to its side, and your blood went cold. Below it, the word kiss was covered by the shiny silver, and the only word visible in the circle that surrounded it was the word ‘singles’.

Through his own carelessness, Jake had sealed his own fate, and you knew Josh would never let it go, at least not without a good fight.

what do you guys think will happen in part two ☺️ I can’t wait to hear your thoughts 🤍

258 notes · View notes

gretavangroupie · 13 days

Text

Goldenrod

Word count: 8.1k

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x Female Reader

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Angst, Toxic Themes and Behavior, Jealousy. Smut: Kissing, Touching, Oral M!Receiving, Fingering, Dirty Talk, Unprotected Sex, Fluff.

A/N: I blame Josh Kiszka, entirely.

It’s a nice place, with tea light candles and fresh flowers on every table. Tucked away on the West side of Nashville, far from the wide eyed tourists and the flashing city lights. It’s quaint, but always busy. A reservation here would cost you. A name or your checkbook, either one will do. You wonder how he managed it, who he knows or what he does. You’d been here only once before, strings pulled and names dropped no doubt.

The hostess led you to your table, smack dab in the center of the restaurant, commanding all the eyes and attention of the patrons around you. With a curt smile you tucked into your chair and waited for your date. You weren’t really sure why you agreed to this, but after several failed attempts on your own you finally caved. Cambry is a terrible influence and you knew better than to go on a date with a man of her choosing, but here you found yourself in a swanky restaurant at a table for two.

You didn’t put too much effort into your outfit, opting for a tight black dress and a pair of gold earrings. It showed off your figure without revealing too much. It was tasteful and sexy, everything you want on a first date.

You knew nothing of the man you were meeting apart from his name. Simon. Cambry assured you that he was perfect for you, claiming how similar the two of you were and citing you had similar taste in music. So, you agreed.

You couldn’t fault him too much for being late, the traffic absolutely horrendous as you made your way through Midtown. You perused the drink menu, placing your order for a dirty martini when the waiter stopped at your table. As you sipped at the briney drink you felt a presence behind you, and you knew Simon must have arrived.

A tall man, with long dirty blonde hair stepped up to the seat across from you, lifting his hand to shake yours.

“Hi, I’m Simon. Sorry I’m late, the traffic–”

“Was terrible, I know,” you laugh, shaking his hand. “Y/N.”

He takes his seat as his eyes dart around your face taking you in. “You got a drink I see, any recommendations? I’ve never been here before.”

“I was wondering how you were able to pull a reservation so last minute,” you answer, pushing the drink menu towards him.

“Ah, called up one of my buddies, works tickets down at Nissan Stadium. Was no trouble,” he boasts as if entry level ticket sales is something to be proud of.

You smile politely and nod your head, “I got a dirty martini, they are heavy handed on the vermouth so I order gin instead of vodka.”

“Dirty, huh?” he smirks, opening the drink menu.

You offer a clipped smile, already not liking this guy too much. His frat boy vibes are a little too strong for your liking, and quite frankly is the opposite of what you have ever been into. The waiter steps up a few seconds later, noticing that your date has arrived.

“What can I get for you sir?”

“I don’t know what all this fancy shit is, do you have Bud Light?” he asks, rapping his knuckles against the table.

“Um, no sir, I believe the only beer we have on tap is Thunder Ann from Jackalope,” he offers with a pleasant smile.

“Was that English?” Simon jokes, however, it is not well received by your waiter or yourself.

“I could bring you a sample if you’d like?”

He blows out a breath of defeat, “I’ll just have what she’s having, but make mine stronger.”

You raise an eyebrow at his demand, silently kicking yourself for ever agreeing to this.

The waiter nods and heads off and a sense of dread washes over you as you realize you are about to enter into forced conversation with this stranger.

“So how do you know Cambry?” he asks, leaning back in his chair like he's at his mothers house.

You swallow down the distaste and try to answer his question, “Cambry and I work together. She is my office suitemate.”

“Oh so you work at the little music place, too?” he asks, downplaying your career to boost his own ego.

“I don’t think Sony Music Publishing is a ‘little music place’ but I guess everyone is entitled to their opinion,” you jest.

“What do you do there?” he asks, accepting his drink from the waiter. He takes far too large of a sip before you can answer, shocking the both of you.

“I’m an account executive, so I do sales, client management, data reports, that kind of thing. How about you? What do you do?” you ask, genuinely curious about what he could possibly do that he would need to belittle your career.

“Oh well, right now I am kinda just playing the corporate field so to speak. I’ve got a few sweet options in my pocket, but uh, right now I am working down at AT&T. You know that Batman looking building. It’s pretty chill,” he says in an attempt to flaunt.

“Yeah, I know it well actually. What do you do there?” you ask.

“I’m a field sales representative,” he answers, his voice dropping a little. You feel your eyes practically bulge from their sockets.

“So, you don’t like, physically work in the building,” you confirm.

“I mean, I report there at the end of the day,” he replies, trying to blow smoke.

“So if you report there at the end of the day, where do you spend your day?” you ask.

“Kind of everywhere. I do a lot of driving around. I was able to secure a deal with a new Mexican restaurant over in Hendersonville. They want full fiber and phones. Pretty sweet, might even make a commission on it,” he says pridefully.

“Wow, a commission too? They are spoiling you,” you taunt.

“Yeah, I’m about to move up, gonna put me into commercial sales. More office time and less road time,” he says, folding up his menu. Your mind is positively racing at how Cambry thought you two would be a perfect match when he couldn’t be more different than you.

“So uh, what are you thinking you want to eat?” he asks.

“I think I might do the farmhouse pasta, the sun dried tomatoes sound good,” you answer, closing your menu as well.

“Yeah I’m gonna get a steak, I bet they are good here,” he says waving over the waiter. Your face blushes red as he makes a scene to grab his attention.

“Yes sir, we are ready to order,” Simon states, opening up his menu. “I’m gonna have the Porterhouse with mushrooms well done and can you bring a side of ketchup?”

You think that if your eyes rolled any harder you could see your brain, but alas you must keep your composure and make it through this trainwreck of a date.

“For you miss?”

“Yes, could I please do the farmhouse pasta? I will also do one more dirty martini,” you smile, hoping the waiter can sense the apology in your tone.

“Great, I will be back,” he says, stepping away with the gentle nod of his head.

The evening continues on as you listen to him tell you every uninteresting fact about himself while he dips his shoe leather of a steak in ketchup. You have a hard time finding your own meal appetizing as you watch him eat, a tiny dribble of ketchup at the corner of his lips. He barely gives you a chance to speak as he relives his fraternity glory days, telling you every close call he has ever had with the police and every famous person’s door he’s knocked on since he moved here from Mississippi.

You down your drink probably a little too fast, trying to decide if you will need another to make it through the last part of this date. You know you will never speak to this man again, and you know you will be giving Cambry a firm talking to come Monday morning.

The waiter steps up to the table with the check, placing it in front of Simon who sends him a puzzled look. “Oh, actually she’s getting the check tonight.”

“Am I?” you ask, a little confused yourself. You had no problem going dutch, but to be told you were taking the entire responsibility of the bill was a bit of a shock.

“I mean, yeah, Cambry said you wanted this date, so… I figured since it was your idea, you were paying. I didn’t bring my wallet.”

You feel your mouth go dry at the audacity of his assumption. “I have no problem going dutch,” you say.

“Yeah, it’s just I didn’t bring my wallet,” he counters, shrugging his shoulders. “I can Venmo you later or something.”

You bite your tongue as you reach for your purse, knowing there is an extremely high chance that this meal will drain his checking account.

“It’s fine, I can get it. No problem,” you say, pulling your wallet from your purse. Just as you unzip it you feel someone walk up behind you, and the sight of a hand on the waiter's arm. The person leans towards the waiter, saying something quietly in his ear as he slips a silver metal credit card into his hand.

As you look up you recognize the mass of curls and the crisp white linen. The smell of his cologne forever ingrained in your memory. Your eyes flash over to Simon who is just as confused as you are, watching the interaction. A few more words are spoken between the waiter and the man you now know is Josh. Your ex.

The waiter scurries off with Josh’s card just as he turns to face you with a shit eating grin. He then casts a lethal glance to Simon, who at this point is looking rather small.

“Don’t you know it's distasteful to make your date pay?” he asks, venom in his voice.

“And you are?” Simon snaps.

“Well, from my place at the bar I thought I was the competition, but now I’m fairly positive that is not the case. My name is Josh, and I would ask yours but quite frankly I don’t care to know.”

“Josh!” you yelp.

“What darling, you can’t deny the facts. I’ve been sitting at the bar since you arrived. Was quite the unexpected show, I must admit,” he pauses, “If I’ve misjudged your evening, which, I’m sure I haven’t based on your body language alone, please do feel free to correct me.”

“We’re actually on a date, man,” Simon speaks up, taking you and Josh both by surprise as you turn to stare at him.

Josh just snickers, shaking his head before turning to you. “Have you had enough, sweets?”

“What do you want, Joshua?” you ask, a little annoyed at his brazenness.

He cups your chin with his thumb and forefinger as he gives you a knowing look, “Is this what you want? You want me to go?”

You push his hand away and cross your arms over your chest, refusing to answer his question.

“Fuck this,” Simon spouts, pushing away from the table and storming out of the restaurant.

Josh quickly takes his seat, sitting across from you as he folds his hands on the table. “You’re welcome,” he taunts, accepting the check book back from the waiter.

“A pleasure Mr. Kiszka,” he nods, walking away.

“Mr. Kiszka? They know you by name here?” you groan, watching a sideways grin pull across his full lips. His eyes glance down to the plate of half eaten food in front of him.

“A well done steak with ketchup? My, my, darling have your standards dipped that low?” he asks, signing the receipt and closing the book. You roll your eyes and reach for your martini glass, however his hand snakes out to grab it first, tossing the rest of it back.

“What the hell,” you growl.

“You dumped me for a broke asshole?” he asks, sitting back in the chair.

“He might have been broke, but I bet he could fuck me more than once every three months,” you snap, pulling ammo from your failed past.

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head, “Now, now, retract the claws sweetness, be my good girl, yeah?”

“I’m not your anything, Josh, and I don’t know what you think is about to happen here, but I can promise you it’s not.”

He stabs at the olive in the martini glass, popping it between his lips. “You sure about that?”

“You completely derailed my date,” you bark.

“Oh, please Y/N. You were ready to go the moment he introduced himself, late, might I add. You were entirely repulsed through dinner, and you couldn't get a word in edgewise. It may have been a year or so since we called it quits, but I still know you like the back of my hand, darling.”

“You don’t know me like that anymore, Josh.”

He chews the olive as a hum rings through his chest, “Is that why your thighs are clenched together under the table right now, for the first time tonight? Why you can’t seem to sit still, squirming everytime I look at you? The pretty pink blush on your cheeks that happened to appear as soon as I stole his seat? Because I just don’t know you anymore?”

You shake your head and look away, pushing him out of your mind.

“Look at me, Y/N,” he demands, and instinctually you turn your head. “Own it.”

You meet his eyes and huff out an annoyed breath. “You can’t just walk up to me and think we are going to pick up where we left off. I left you for a reason, Josh.”

“Are you ready to go now that you’ve said your piece?” he asks, pushing his chair away from the table.

“I drove myself here, and I’ll drive myself home,” you quip.

“After two martinis, I don’t think so, sweetness. I’ll send for your car in the morning,” he insists.

“Send for my car? What are you, the Pope?”

“Only the one time if you remember correctly,” he jokes, offering his hand to help you stand from your chair. You take it begrudgingly, grabbing your purse and smoothing out your dress.

“Stunning as usual, love. You know I love that silhouette on you,” he says, ushering the two of you out the door and into the parking lot. He drives a different car now, which is probably why you didn't recognize it in the lot when you arrived.

“It wasn’t for you,” you gripe.

“But it was for him? Mister can’t even split the check?” he counters.

“Again, he may not be made of money, but he at least listened the few times I was able to get a word in,” you snap.

Josh sucks his teeth as he opens the passenger door, helping you climb inside. It’s spacious and smells of new leather. A string of beads hangs from the rearview mirror and a tiny crystal lays haphazardly in the center console. He joins you seconds later, starting the car and backing out of the parking space.

“Where are you taking me?” you question, although you’re fairly certain you know the answer.

“Home,” he snickers, taking a right out of the parking lot.

“You don’t know where I live, I moved,” you say, shifting your body in the seat.

“No, no. I said, I am taking you home.”

“What if I don’t want to go?” you ask, fully lying to yourself and to him and he knows it.

“I did always like it when you played hard to get,” he smiles, moving his hand to rest on your bare leg. “But your body gives you away everytime.”

“Where’d you find him?” he asks, letting his eyes flick over to yours for just a second.

“Cambry,” you answer, a twinge of defeat in your voice.

“Cambry? Come on, baby, you know she has the worst taste in men,” he groans, merging onto the freeway with ease.

“I didn’t really have a choice, and she oversold him, clearly,” you answer.

“So you’re still at Sony, then?”

“I am, though I’ve been considering a career change, maybe even a city change,” you lie.

“Had enough of Nashville?” he jests.

“The people that reside here,” you taunt.

“Fair enough,” he concedes.

His fingers trace circles into your skin, lighting little fires with every pass. “You stopped answering my calls,” he trails off.

“That is typical of a break up Josh…”

“Baby–”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap.

“What can I call you?” he asks.

“Nothing, you can take me home and send my car in the morning,” you answer.

His grip on your leg tightens, his thumb passing over your knee. You feel warm beneath his touch, a calmness washing over you. This is always how he got you.

“It was one fight, Y/N! I know I fucked up, but–” he shouts, losing his calm and cool composure for a millisecond.

“Josh…” you whine, not wanting to hash this out again.

As you pull up to a red light he turns to look at you, moving his hand from your leg and grabbing your hand instead.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. Just– come over for a little bit. Let’s talk. Catch up a little. Don’t let your night be a complete loss, you look too pretty. Let me appreciate you,” he says, squeezing your hand.

Your eyes meet his, sparkling and encased by his thick lashes. “Okay,” you murmur.

“Yeah?”

You roll your eyes and nod your head, “Yes, fine. Just to catch up.”

The light changes and you swear he did twenty over the speed limit the rest of the way to his house. He has a smirk on his lips that he can’t seem to shake, and his hand hasn't left yours.

“Why were you at the bar alone?” you ask, the gin making you feel a little more brave than usual.

“I like the food, and they make my drink the right way. You know I don’t like going into the city, too many people, and the guys were all busy tonight. I think I was right where I needed to be though. Got you out of that shitty date,” he laughs.

“It was pretty shitty,” you agree, flashing him a smile.

“Missed that,” he says, turning into his driveway. “That smile. Lights up a room.”

“Stop,” you say, playfully pushing his shoulder. “Don’t suck up now after you were all bossy and demanding at the restaurant.”

“Worked though,” he grins, shrugging his shoulders and shutting off the car.

“Did it?”

“You’re here…” he says, tipping his chin.

“To talk. To catch up,” you counter.

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you,” he says, helping you out of the car and shutting the door behind you. He guides you up to the front door with his hand on the small of your back, shoving his key into the lock and opening the door.

You’re instantly transported back in time. A time when this was your safe place, when this was your landing pad of comfort. A home you shared together. Warm and welcoming. Until, it wasn’t. It was a big empty house with nothing but the echo of your own voice for months on end. The place you would listen to your calls ring out with no answer and texts would sit on delivered for days.

It was hard to leave him, your personal ray of light. The good times were the greatest, and the bad times were worse than the worst. You met your breaking point and all you could think of was starting over. Living a normal life with a normal job and a normal relationship.

You’d grown a little since that day, finding yourself and establishing your own roots in the city. You cut off contact completely. Josh never gave up though. He was persistent, you’d give him that. He tried to reconcile things, promised to fix it, promised to do better, but after so many failed attempts, you couldn’t do it anymore. You needed to see this through, for yourself.

It took almost a year but he did stop calling. Stopped checking in. Your heart ached for him. You wondered if you’d made a mistake. You knew you never really stopped loving him. How could you stop loving someone like him? He took your heart and cast it in gold, giving a piece of himself to you to carry when he was away, but still it wasn’t enough. You needed more than he could give you then.

“You redecorated,” you ponder.

“A bit. Just some new furniture, art and things I picked up on the road,” he says, tossing his keys on the table. “You like it?”

You nod your head, “Yeah, I do. It feels very… you.” you pause, “It feels warm.”

He walks into the kitchen, pulling two lowball glasses from the cabinet before reaching for the tequila on top of the fridge. He holds the bottle up towards you in question and you nod your head, knowing you aren’t leaving tonight.

He pours the tequila into the glasses, topping them with sparkling water and a handful of ice as you walk over to join him. He slides the glass to you and holds his up to tap against yours.

“Glad you’re here, baby,” he breathes.

“Josh…”

“Sorry, old habit,” he blushes, taking a sip of his drink.

You join him, taking a long pull from the glass letting the bubbles slip down your throat. He made it perfect, just how you like it.

“Shall we?” he asks, pushing off the counter top and making his way into the living room. You follow behind him taking the seat next to him on the couch. You settle into the leather cushions as he shoots up again.

“Wait, hold on,” he says, walking across the room. He struts across the wood floors carrying himself in a way much different than you have ever seen him. He looks confident and seems to be floating. He grabs a small remote and turns down the lights, casting the room in a much dimmer light.

“Do you always walk around like that?” you ask, sipping from the rim of your glass.

“Like what?” he asks, returning to his place next to you.

“Like…like you’re made of gold,” you giggle, letting the tequila warm your blood.

“What if I am?” he challenges.

“What, made of gold?”

“Mhmm,” he hums.

“Kinda seems like it sometimes,” you confess.

“Yeah?”

“You kinda glow,” you answer.

“Optical illusion, sweets,” he grins.

“I don’t know, you’ve always kinda been that way. Glowy…” you offer, feeling a little hazy.

“You flirting with me now?” he asks, his lips turning up into a grin.

“No,” you growl, “Can I not give you a compliment?”

“Absolutely. Please do continue, I’m quite enjoying it,” he laughs, throwing his arm across the back of the couch. His fingertips brush your shoulder and you shudder at the contact.

“Has it been that long, darling?”

“What?” you question, turning to meet his eyes. His fingers graze against your skin again, goosebumps rising to the surface.

“Oh, say it isn’t so, baby. Break my heart,” he whines.

“What, Josh?”

“You’re touch starved aren’t you sweetness,” he says, his eyes searching yours.

“No, I’m fine,” you lie. You look away, knowing he was always able to read you like a book.

“Look at me, Y/N,” he snaps. You turn your head and meet his eyes again. “Don’t lie to me again. You know that never went well for you.”

You bite your lips together as your cheeks grow red hot. Part of you wants to push him a little more, force him to make good on his threat. The other part of you knows you should leave before he sucks you in.

“Tell me how long,” he says, resting his hand on the curve of your neck.

You blow out a breath and shake your head, “It’s not important,” you answer.

“Is to me, always important to me,” he urges.

“Why do you want to know?”

“I want to know that you were being taken care of,” he pauses, “I don’t think that’s a crime.”

“It’s been… a minute,” you confess.

“Baby,” he breathes.

“It’s fine, Josh. Really.”

“It’s not,” he snaps. “How long, love? You can tell me. It’s just me.”

“God! Since we split! Okay?! Is that what you want to hear?! That I haven’t fucked anyone since you?!” you shout, burying your head in your hands. You feel his hand rest on your back, warm and firm.

“Oh, my love. No wonder you’re so feisty. Wound up tighter than a two dollar watch. My girl needs a little relief, doesn’t she,” he asks.

You turn your head in your hands to look at him, his face serious and dripping with lust. You push yourself up off of the couch, pacing around the living room.

“I don’t want your pity, Josh.”

“It’s not pity darling, you’d know if it was,” he retorts.

“Well whatever it is, I don’t want it,” you snap.

He blows out a deep breath and clears his throat, “I’ve had just about enough of your mouth tonight,” he growls. “Why don’t you come back over here and try again, yeah?”

You stare at him from across the room, arms crossed over your chest in an effort to conceal your nipples that have grown hard just from the demanding quality of his voice.

“You can drop the act, I know you want me just as bad as I want you. If you want me to beg, crawl on my hands and knees for you, you know I’ll do it, but I think your body is begging for me harder than I ever could.”

You roll your eyes, and look away.

“Am I wrong? Tell me I’m wrong.”

You huff out a breath, “No,” you whisper.

“What’s that?”

“I said no,” you answer.

A smirk pulls across his lips, “No, what?”

You feel your chest grow warm and you swallow thickly, “No, sir.”

He clicks his tongue, “Don’t call me sir, that's my brother. Try again, love.”

“No, baby,” you breathe.

“That’s better. Much better. Come back over here,” he says, motioning you over with two fingers.

He reaches for your hand as you approach him, pulling you down onto his lap. Your legs fall to either side of his hips as you straddle him, the position feeling familiar and comforting.

“There’s my girl,” he growls, leaning forward to place his drink on the coffee table. His hands move to grip at your hips, holding you in place as he sinks a little further beneath you. It would be a lie if you said you weren’t enjoying this, feeling his hands on you and the evidence of his want as it grew beneath you.

“Not yours, Josh,” you say, letting your hands land on his chest.

“Liar,” he breathes, rolling his hips into you, eliciting a whine from your chest. You hear him laugh, “Your body says otherwise.”

“My body has never been able to say no to you,” you admit.

“And that's what I love about it, baby. Mine even when you aren’t.”

A sigh falls from your lips as his thumb drags over your lips, “Kiss me, Josh,” you beg.

A grin pulls across his lips as he pulls you by the back of your neck towards him. His soft, warm lips brush yours just slightly, enough to pull a whine from your chest.

“Now who’s begging?” he murmurs. Your eyes meet his, dark and lust filled before he crashes his lips to yours. His hands grip at your head as if he’s afraid you might fly away, his fingers twisting into your hair.

His tongue slides against yours, the taste of him so sweet and familiar. There would never be anyone that tasted better, you were sure of it. His hands slid down your face and over your shoulders, reaching for your hands as they sat on his chest. He wrapped his hands around yours, linking his fingers with yours the best he could, just holding you in a way you’ve desperately missed over the last year without him.

“Josh…” you breathe.

His lips break away from yours, his cheeks pink and his lips glossy, “Yeah, baby?”

You hesitate asking your question, momentarily debating whether you truly want to know or not, but you know if this night is going to continue, you have to know.

“How long…” you pause, “How long for you?” It comes out breathless, his warm hands in yours as his lips hover over yours.

He pulls back a touch, licking his lips and swallowing harshly, “A month or two,” he answers honestly.

Your traitorous eyes fill with tears and you do your best to blink them away. You drop your head in an effort to conceal your emotions, knowing this is all entirely your fault to begin with. His hand releases yours and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“They were never you. Not a single one of them could ever be you.”

You nod your head and swallow the lump in your throat, “Then why?”

“It’s been a year, baby. I never thought I’d have you again,” he confesses.

“But you want me?” you ask, just wanting to hear him say it.

“Is that not clear? Of course I want you. I never stopped wanting you. You stopped wanting me.”

You shake your head, “I didn’t. I swear I didn’t, I just– It was too hard, I couldn’t do it anymore. It hurt too much.”

He grabs your face in his hands again, holding eye contact with you. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. I know I messed up. I’ve thought of it every single day since you left. I’m so sorry.”

You can see it in his eyes that he means it this time. The urgency in his voice and the trembling of his hands against your face prove it. You decide at that moment to cast the memories of the past to the wind and fall headfirst into him, the way you’ve dreamt of for months.

You press your lips to his, smiling, “Tequila always did make you all mushy, baby.”

A smile pulls across his lips as he stands from the couch, wrapping his arms around your thighs as he makes his way to the stairs. His lips connect to your jaw, peppering kisses up and down your neck with every step he takes.

It’s seconds before you’re tossed onto the bed. The bed you’ve missed so terribly. The bed that smells of him and his linen sheets. You melt into the comforter, your body relaxing almost immediately. Your eyes close and all you can hear is the shedding of clothes across the room, and the tinkling of beads as Josh places his necklace on the dresser.

You feel his hand as it comes to rest on your foot, sliding up the length of your body and stopping just as it reaches the hem of your dress. You sit up on your elbows to look at him, standing at the end of the bed in his boxers.

His gaze is fixed upon you, devouring your every inch.

“Joshy?” you breathe.

He drops his head for a second before looking back at you, “God I haven’t heard that in so long,” he whines. “What sweetness?”

“Come lay down with me,” you ask.

He licks his lips and crawls onto the bed, laying down next to you and resting his hand on your hip. “Hi beautiful.”

“Hi baby,” you whisper, rolling towards him. You lay your head on his shoulder, listening to his heart as it pounds erratically in his chest.

“I missed this bed,” you whisper against his skin.

“I missed you in this bed,” he pauses, “Terribly lonely without you.”

“Not too lonely it sounds like,” you tease, sitting up and stepping off of the bed.

“Baby, I–”

“I’m kidding, Josh. I don’t mind. Well, not completely anyway.”

You pull the zipper on the back of your dress, letting it fall to the floor and instinctively kicking it to the chair at the side of the bed like you'd done a thousand times before.

“So you care a little?” he smirks, taking in the sight of your matching lingerie. “Jesus, was that for him?”

“If all went well,” you answer cheekily, crawling back onto the bed.

“Over my dead body,” he growls, grabbing your arm and pulling you to lay on top of him.

“It was for me. I needed a little confidence boost.”

“Baby, what? Why? You were always so confident and cool,” he asks, furrowing his brow.

“Not lately… A few failed dates will do that to you I guess,” you admit.

“No, no no no no. Don’t let a few pricks dull your glow, sweetness. You’re everything. They’d be lucky to have you.”

You push up off of him, crawling backwards down the bed as you place a few errant kisses across his stomach. Your eyes never leave his as you stop above his waistband, sliding your nails against the elastic.

“What if I never wanted them,” you ask.

He sucks in a breath as your finger dips beneath the band, slightly tugging at the fabric.

“What do you want?” he asks, his eyes searching yours.

You pull his boxers over his hips watching his cock spring free to slap against his groin. You take him in your hand, watching as his face twists up in pleasure.

“Tell me,” he growls through gritted teeth.

Instead of answering him you let your tongue lick a hot stripe from his base to his tip, tasting the bitter sweetness of his precum on your tongue. His core tightens as you take him into your mouth, swirling your tongue against his length, feeling every vein and the rapid pulse pounding through him.

His hand finds the side of your face, tucking your hair behind your ear as he watches you take him down so easily, remembering exactly how he likes it. You grip his base as you work him, hollowing your cheeks as you eyes meet his. His lips are parted, a heavy breath leaving his chest as his grip on your hair tightens. You take him farther, swallowing around his tip as he nudges the back of your throat, sending him spiraling in his own bliss.

“Fuck, baby, please…” he begs.

You pop off of him, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his length. “Please what?”

“Please let me fuck you,” he asnwers, panting as he desperately awaits your mouths return to him.

“I’m kind of enjoying myself here,” you tease, taking him into your throat again.

“Fucking hell, you’re so goddamn sexy. I fucking– I–” he stammers, groaning as you swallow around him again.

“You think of this, baby? You miss sucking my cock? My good fucking girl,” he asks, jerking his hips up off of the bed. “You think of me like I think of you?”

You groan as your tongue swirls at his tip, letting your eyes meet his.

“Answer me,” he demands.

You pull off of him quickly, a spit covered mess, “Yes, yes baby,” you whine.

“Missed your mouth, your perfect fucking mouth. Your lips, your tongue, everything,” he growls, a moan leaving his chest as you suction your mouth around him. “Pull off baby, not yet. Not ready yet.”

You do as you're told, pulling off of him and wiping your lips on the back of your hand. He grabs your chin and pulls you toward him, his wet cock laying against your panties. His lips meet yours, swollen and pink and still glistening with your spit. He’s desperate to taste you, to devour you completely. You feel his hands slide over your waist and up to your bra, unclasping the hooks and pulling the straps from your arms. He pulls it from between you in one move, before turning you to your back to take in the sight of you.

His eyes practically bulge from his head as he looks at you. “You– You pierced your nipples? When did you? Wha– Fucking Christ.”

A smile spreads across your face. It's not very often you can catch Josh off guard like this, so you’re taking this small victory.

“About seven months ago, on a whim,” you answer.

“Anything else I should know about before I have a stroke?” he laughs.

“Why don’t you just find out?” you say playfully, just wanting to see his reaction.

He pulls the elastic of your panties over your hips, tossing the lacy garment to the floor. His tongue darts out over his lips as he looks at you, as if deciding where he wants to start. Though, you knew Josh, and he would forever be a victim to his own fascination with shiny objects.

His lips wrap around your nipple, his tongue gently flicking over the golden barbell. You lace your fingers into his curls, scratching at his roots as his teeth graze the sensitive bud in his mouth.

“Josh,” you whine, arching your back beneath him.

“Mhmm,” he whines, not letting his lips detach from you.

“Missed your touch,” you answer.

He pulls off of your right breast and kisses his way to your left, treating your left nipple with the same reverence as the previous. You grab his hand and pull his fingers to your lips, sucking his first two digits into your mouth and letting your tongue twist against them.

You hear him groan against you, the sensation becoming a little too overwhelming for him.

“You okay, baby?”

He pulls off of you, still staring down at the shiny gold bars adorning your nipples.

“No, fuck no, I’m never gonna stop thinking about these,” he says through a pant.

A laugh bubbles up from your chest as his hand meets your chest, sliding down your stomach and stopping at your hip.

“You gonna let me in, sweetness?” he asks, biting at his bottom lip.

A smirk pulls at your lips as you look at him, nodding gently. His hand slides down further, his fingers dusting across your folds. Your body quivers at his gentle touch, a small grin of satisfaction on his lips.

“You want it?”

“Stop teasing, Josh,” you whine.

“I’m sorry, baby. I know you need it. I’ll give you what you want. You know that, right?”

You nod furiously, just wanting him to touch you. Needing it more than anything. “Yes, yes, I know. Please…”

He bends forward and presses a kiss to your stomach, two fingers sinking into your wetness. You jerk towards him as his fingertips press to your clit, a whine escaping your lips before you can stop it. He hums as his fingers start to circle through your wetness, his lip bitten firmly between his teeth. His eyes are dark as they stare into yours, watching your every move and memorizing every expression.

“You feel so good, baby. Missed this so bad,” he breathes, teasing your entrance.

“You could have had anyone,” you whisper.

“I didn’t want anyone. Just you.”

His fingers dip into you, finding the place they once knew so well. Your hand moves to rest on his bicep, stronger now than they once were, the muscle rounded and defined. In fact, all of him is that way. Lean and fit, stronger and more chiseled. The thought alone makes you clench around his fingers.

“Yeah?”

“You feel so– so different. Stronger,” you say.

“Needed something to fill the time,” he smiles, curling his fingers inside of you. You cry out in bliss as your stomach starts to tighten.

“So good, baby,” you cry.

“Yeah, you gonna come for me? You gonna come right on my fingers, so needy and sweet,” he urges. His fingers are moving rapidly, working you toward your release better than you could have imagined.

“Ease into it, baby. Don’t rush it. I’m right here, not going anywhere. I’m yours,” he says, his voice soft and comforting.

Your eyes meet his, desperate and lust filled, “Mine?”

He nods his head quickly, “Yours,” he pauses, “If you want, I just– I’m here, okay? Take your time, feel it. Breathe it in, savor it. I’m here.”

“I want it,” you plead.

“Have it, have me,” he breathes.

His fingers move at a relentless pace, fingertips massaging into you with such precision it’s like a year never passed. Your chest grows hot and your stomach tightens as his eyes meet yours, both of you knowing you’re on the edge of release.

“Do it. Take it baby,” he growls.

“Josh,” you whine, reaching for his hand and twisting your fingers with his. His grip is tight on you, grounding you the way you need him to.

With another flick of his thumb across your clit, you’re sent spiraling into your release. You’d never been able to replicate the way it feels when it's by his hand, and you were sure no other man could. His hand slows as your eyes open, finding his full of desire as they stare back at you.

He grins as he presses a kiss to your mound, slowly pulling his fingers from inside you. Your body is shaking with adrenaline, the want for him coursing through you like never before. You need him. You need him now.

“Josh, now,” you pant, your chest still heaving as you catch your breath.

He doesn’t hesitate. There are no witty remarks, no jokes, no playful banter at all. Just the need the two of you share for each other taking center stage. He pushes up and crawls up towards you, falling into the space between your legs. He pushes them further apart with his knees, fisting at his base as he stares at you. You swear you can see his heart pounding in his chest, and you know he needs this as badly as you do.

He lowers himself down to you, brushing his tip through your folds. Your hands come up to his face, cradling his cheeks as you press your lips to his. It's different this time, a little less desperate, more intentional. He lets himself slowly sink inside of you as his lips dance with yours, filling you so fully and so completely, the way he always had.

He bottoms out inside of you, sliding his arm beneath your hips to pull you in close. His eyes meet yours in question and you nod, letting him know you need more. He begins to slowly move his hips, rolling into you at a fairly gentle pace, soaking in every inch of you and savoring every sound that falls from your lips.

Your hands wrap around his waist, pulling him in tighter, desperate for all of him. He groans as your chest presses against his, the coolness of the metal bars against his warm, dewy skin pulling a groan from his chest.

“Baby,” he whines, snapping his hips into you a little harder.

“Josh,” you answer, more of a moan.

“I need this,” he says, moving his hand to cradle your jaw. “I need you.”

“I know, baby,” you cry out, “I know. I need you, too. I fucking need you.”

He groans as he drops his head, letting his lips connect with your neck. His hot tongue slides against your skin before he sucks the skin into a fresh pink bite. His pace quickens, his skin slick with sweat as he pounds into you.

“Tell me that you think someone could fuck you better than this,” he growls.

“Fuck, no. No one. No one but you, Josh. I only want you,” you answer, gripping your fingers into his ass.

His demeanor changes, he’s grown animalistic, grunts and groans falling from his lips as he nears the peak of his release.

“Tell me that you don’t love me anymore,” he demands.

“Josh, I–”

“Say it,” he barks.

“I do! I do love you! You know I still fucking love you!” you cry, feeling the coil tighten in your groin.

A cry falls from his chest, echoing around the room as his lips crash to yours. It's rough and desperate, and you know you just told him everything he’s been waiting to hear.

“I fucking love you, Y/N,” he pants, “Don’t you ever fucking leave me again.”

You nod your head desperately, needing to feel his lips on yours again. His strokes start to quicken, hitting you long and deep as you both teeter on the edge of your orgasm. The wet sounds dancing through the air are deafening, and the heat of his breath on your face has you dizzy.

“Josh, baby,” you whine, knowing you won't last much longer.

“Yeah? Yeah you gonna come again? Bloom like a pretty flower just for me?” he urges, knowing the sound of his voice will push you over the edge. He nods his head, and bites his bottom lip as he watches you, squirming and panting beneath him as his cock hits you right where it belongs.

“Come on sweetness, be my pretty flower, come for me,” he whispers against your lips.

His hand cups at your breast as his fingers brush your piercing, letting his thumb and forefinger pinch at your nipple. The sensation is enough to bring you to the brink, letting you dive headfirst into your release. You cry out beneath him, his name falling from your lips in succession.

“Just like that, my love. I’m here, I’ve got you,” he says, pulling you closer to him as his hips continue to work you through it. “I’m there sweetheart, tell me where.”

“You know where, I’m yours,” you plead.

He snaps his hips into you again, holding you in place as he spills inside of you, the most beautiful noises falling from his lips. He comes down, loosening his grip on your hips as he falls slack on top of you. Your arms wrap around him, your hand drifting up into his sweaty curls as he catches his breath.

“I mean it,” he breathes, “I do love you.” He props his head up on your chest, letting his eyes meet yours.

“You know I love you, Josh.”

He cranes his neck forward and kisses you again, and you can almost feel the smile on his lips. “Does this mean you’ll come home? Let me love you again?”

“Is that you asking me?” you tease.

“I’ll call the movers right now,” he taunts.

“You forgive me for leaving you in the first place?” you ask, a hint of nervousness in your voice.

“I deserved it. I know what I lost.”

“I keep my apartment,” you counter.

“But you’ll be with me when I’m here?” he asks with questioning eyes.

“If that’s what you want,” you answer.

“No more dates with assholes who don’t deserve you?” he smirks.

“No more dates, just you,” you nod.

“I’ll do it right this time, give you everything. I promise.”

His lips press to yours, soft and sweet and barely there, sealing his promise and setting your heart aflame. He rolls off of you, laying next to you as close as he can get.

“You said I’m your flower,” you pause, “What kind?”

He pulls you into his side, hitching your leg up over his waist. “Hmm, a poppy perhaps? A bright red one, maybe orange.”

You giggle at the fact he has picked such an outlandish flower. “Why’s that?”

He turns his head to look at you and raises his eyebrow playfully, “The seeds are an opiate and can provide intense pleasure to the consumer, and you, my sweets, are certainly a drug to me.”

You roll your eyes and shove at his chest, feeling him pull you in tighter. He kisses your head and lets out a sigh.

“What about me, am I a flower, darling?”

“Of course you are,” you pause, looking at him. “Too easy, you’re Goldenrod.”

“Isn’t that a weed?” he laughs, running his fingertips against your bare thigh.

“Technically, but it’s beautiful. It’s wild and free and vibrant. Thrives in the warm sunshine and sways in the breeze. They’re made of gold, just like you,” you smile, flashing him a wink.

“Although, it is poisonous,” you add.

He rolls to face you completely, cupping your face in his hand as he smiles, “You know what they say…”

“What’s that,” you question.

“The worst poison always tastes the sweetest.”

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